V 


Merry 

DROLLERY 

COMPLEAT 


BEING 

* 


JOVIAL  POEMS,  MERRY  SONGS, 

&c., 
COLLECTED  BY  W.N.,  C.B.,  R.S.,  &  J.G., 

Lovers  of  Wit, 
Both  Parts;  1661,  1670,  1691. 


Now  First  Reprinted  from  the  Final  Edition,  1691. 


EDITED, 


With  a  Special  Introduction, 

AN   APPENDIX   OF 

Notes,  Illustrations,  and  Emendations  of  Text; 
And  Frontispiece ; 

By  J.  WOODFALL  EBSWORTH,  M.  A..,  CANTAB. 


BOSTON,  LINCOLNSHIRE: 
Printed  by  Robert  Roberts*  Strait  Bar-Gate. 

M,DCCCLXXV. 


TO   THOSE 

STUDENTS  OF  HISTORY 

WHO   DESIRE   TO    LEARN 

fljp  €m  Ito  nf  $ttglan&; 

AT    THE    CLOSE    OF    THE    CIVIL    WARS  ; 
THIS   EXACT   REPRINT 

OF    THE 

MERRY    DROLLERY,    COMPLETE, 
(FIRST  COLLECTED  IN  1661,) 

is 
DEDICATED. 

May,  1875. 


CONTENTS. 


DEDICATION 

PRELUDE      .... 

INTRODUCTION   TO   "  MERRY   DROLLERY  :"-  I. 

§  I.  MERRY  DROLLERY,  l66l, — 2.  THE 
BALLADS  AND  THE  COMMONWEALTH, — 
3.  THE  WRITERS  OF  THE  SONGS. 

ORIGINAL  ADDRESS  TO  THE  READER  .  3 

MERRY  DROLLERY,  COMPLETE,  PART  I.  5 

»  >,  ,>  „  II.  209 

ORIGINAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  .  351 

ORIGINAL  LIST  OF  BOOKS  .  .  358 

APPENDIX  OF  NOTES  TO  MERRY  D.  C.  .  363 

„  „  WESTM.  D.  .  405 

FINALE  ....  403 


PRELUDE 

To  the  Reprint  of 

"  MERRY  DROLLERY,  COMPLETE." 

"  Merry  and  Wise"  the  proverb  bade  us  be  : 
"  Wise,"  ruled  the  Saintly,  "but  by  no  means  Merry  !  " 
And  straightway  sought  all  joy  to  kill  and  bury. 
Marvel  not,  then,  if  Cavaliers  we  see 
(By  ample  proof  within  this  Drollerie,) 
Chose  Mirth  alone,  quaffing  too  much  of  Sherry. 

Merry  and  Wise  !  Welcome  be  smiles  of  youth, 
On  lips  not  yet  in  anguish  blenched  or  bitten  ; 
Be  sportive  gambols  of  each  lamb  and  kitten  ! 
He  who  would  banish  Mirth  is  scant  of  ruth  : 
Why  should  grim  visages  repel  from  Truth  ? 
Soon  shall  the  joyous  heart  be  cold,  or  smitten. 

Merry  and  Wise  !  True  text  for  books  like  ours, 
Which  tell  of  troubled  times,  and  men  half  frantic, 
Drunk  with  a  short-lived  glee,  playing  their  antic. 

Seek  for  more  innocent  mirth,  and  fragrant  bowers 
That  show  no  reptile-slime  upon  the  flowers  : 
Shun  Mirth  that  stains,  and  Wisdom  grown  pedantic. 

J.  W.  E. 
MAY,  1875. 


EDITORIAL 

INTRODUCTION 

TO   THE 

MERRY  DROLLERY,  COMPLETE  : 

1661,   1691. 


Malvolio. — "  My  Masters,  are  you  mad?  or  what  are  you?  Have 
you  no  wit,  manners,  nor  honesty,  but  to  gabble  like 
tinkers  at  this  time  of  night  ?  Do  ye  make  an  ale- 
house of  my  Lady's  house,  that  ye  squeak  out  your 
Coziers'  Catches  without  any  mitigation  or  remorse 
of  voice  ?  Is  there  no  respect  of  place,  persons,  nor 
time,  in  you  ? 

Sir  Toby. — We  did  keep  time,  Sir,  in  our  Catches.     Sneck  up  ! 


Maria. Sometimes  he  is  a  kind  of  Puritan. 

Sir  Andrew. — O,  if  I  thought  that,  I'd  beat  him  like  a  dog. 

Sir  Toby. — What,   for  being  a  Puritan  ?    thy   exquisite   reason, 
dear  Knight  ? 

Sir  Andrew. — I  have  no  exquisite  reason  for  't,  but  I  have  reason 
good  enough." — (Twelfth  Night.  Aa  ii.  sc.  3.) 

§  i.    MERRY  DROLLERY,  1661. 

'HEN  the  four   "Lovers  of  Wit  "col- 
lected    these     Jovial  Poems,  Merry* 
Songs,  and  Witty  Drolleries,  not  for- 
getting what  are  rightly  called  pleasant 
Catches,    and     produced    them    as 
"MERRY  DROLLERY"  in  1661,  they  gave  us  no  more  of 
preface  or  advertisement  than  the  few  lines  following 
b  the 


ii.  INTRODUCTION. 

the  original  title-page,  and  addressed  To  the  Reader. 
They  told  us  that  many  of  the  pieces  "  were  obtained 
with  much  difficulty,  and  at  a  chargeable  rate,"  and  we 
see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  assertion.  At 
that  time,  doubtless,  one  or  other  of  the  compilers 
must  have  known  particulars  of  authorship  and  date 
concerning  a  much  larger  number  of  the  songs  and 
poems  than  is  now  attainable  by  learned  students. 
But  W.N.,  C.B.,  R.S.,  and  even  the  mysterious  J.G., 
have  given  us  no  help  by  a  single  note,  and  we  must 
do  as  well  as  we  are  able  without  them.  Therefore, 
it  seems  not  unreasonable,  (at  the  risk  of  some  excep- 
tional Subscriber  grumbling  because  the  meat  is  getting 
cold,  while  his  host  fumbles  with  the  carving  knife), 
that  we  ourselves  should  try  to  give  an  Introduction ; 
as  we  attempted  to  do — not  without  pleasant  meed  of 
thanks  thereafter,  from  men  the  world  holds  high  in 
honour — when  lately  editing  the  choice  Westminster 
Drolleries. 

But  we  are  like  the  Scottish  wight  who  gained 
wealth  and  fame,  to  a  certain  extent,  by  displaying  to 
view  for  a  small  charge  a  veritable  Golden  Guinea  at 
the  Falkirk  Tryst.  Each  beholder  was  delighted  at 
the  time  ;  and  the  fortunate  possessor  was  elated  to 
observe  their  pleasure,  and  to  pocket  the  penny  siller 
that  rewarded  the  exhibition.  Alas  !  a  season  of  dearth 
and  penury  soon  followed  in  his  experience,  and  under 

pressure 


INTRODUCTION.  ill. 

pressure  of  some  flinty-hearted  landlord,  or  other 
creditor,  who,  like  a  Polypus,  maintained  a  mockery  of 
existence  without  any  bowels,  Tugalt  parted  with  the 
golden  goose  that  had  laid  so  many  copper  eggs.  The 
story  runs,  that  he  determinately  offered  himself 
again  at  Trysting-time,  and  was  hailed  by  many  of  the 
drovers  and  stock-buyers  with  a  request  to  show  the 
guinea,  while  they  gladly  proffered  the  hire-penny  as 
reward.  Having  no  longer  any  guinea  to  display,  he 
let  them  know  that  he,  instead,  would  show  the  bag  or 
"  pock  "  which  used  to  hold  the  coin,  and  only  charge 
"ae  bawbee  for  it;"  expatiating  on  its  beauty  and 
completeness,  more  than  he  had  needed  to  declare 
about  the  precious  metal. 

Such  may  be  deemed  our  present  situation.  Of  the 
Westminster  Drollery  we  deliberately  proclaimed — 
"  There  is  no  collection  of  songs  surpassing  it  in  the 
language,  and  as  representing  the  lyrics  of  the  first 
twelve  years  after  the  Restoration  it  is  unequalled." 
We  do  not  recall  this  statement,  but  are  inclined  to 
affirm  it  anew.  What  then  can  we  say  in  favour  of 
the  " Merry  Drollery"  or  of  the  final  volume  with 
"  Choice  Drollery "  and  other  rarities  that  is  next  to 
follow  ?  Have  we  nothing  but  an  empty  bag  to  offer  ? 

Our  Merry  Drollery  of  1661  is  quite  distinct  in 
character  from  the  Westminster  Drolleries  of  1671, 
1672,  but  forms  an  almost  indispensible  companion  to 

that 


iv.  INTRODUCTION. 

that  ten  years  later  volume.  It  is  not  only  amusing 
in  itself,  but  as  an  historical  document  it  is  of  great 
value.  Of  the  more  than  two  hundred  pieces  con- 
tained in  Merry  Drollery,  Complete,  (the  edition  of 
1691,  here  re-printed  page  for  page,  line  for  line,  and 
letter  for  letter,)  fully  a  third  are  elsewhere  unattain- 
able, and  nearly  all  the  rest  are  scarce.  In  its  entierty 
it  was  a  favourite  for  at  least  thirty  years,  until  its 
political  attractions  were  superseded  by  fresh  embroil- 
ments calling  forth  new  satires,  lampoons,  and  par- 
odies, when  the  Restored  Stuarts  were  once  again 
a  banished  family,  never  more  to  recover  the  English 
throne  and  crown.  Some  few  of  its  social  and 
mirthful  portraitures  still  lingered  in  the  memory  of 
the  people,  but  new  comicalities  displaced  the  old,  no 
whit  more  decent  or  refined  for  a  century  at  least,  but 
simply  tempting  by  their  novelty.  And  now,  when 
most  of  the  old  merriment  has  gained  an  archaeologic 
rust,  and  things  antiquated  have  risen  in  value  by 
becoming  ancient  (to  borrow  a  contrast  from  the  late 
Lord  Lytton),  we  believe  that  acceptance  may  be 
found  among  students  of  old  literature  for  this  our 
scrupulously-accurate  re-print  of  Merry  Drollery,  Com- 
plete. It  should  be  observed  that  the  few  rectifications 
of  a  corrupt  text  are  invariably  shown,  by  being  held 
within  square  brackets,  when  not  reserved  for  the 
Appendix  of  Notes,  Illustrations,  and  Emendations. 

The 


INTRODUCTION.  V. 

The  only  alterations  made,  additional,  are  in  a  few 
cases  of  departure  from  the  mere  accident  of  broken 
words  in  the  original,  caused  by  an  insufficient  length 
of  line.  In  almost  all  cases,  even  this  typographical 
peculiarity,  when  extended  to  words  displaced,  has 
been  retained.  The  Editor  is  responsible  for  them. 

As  mentioned  on  the  title-page,  we  follow  the  en- 
larged edition  of  1691.  Twenty-five  songs  and  poems, 
that  had  not  appeared  in  the  1661  edition,  were  added 
to  the  subsequent  editions ;  but  they  effected  no 
material  change  in  the  character  of  the  work.  Dis- 
placed to  make  room  for  them,  as  for  other  reasons 
not  declared,  thirty-four  songs  after  appearing  in  the 
edition  of  1661  were  now  omitted.  These  we  shall 
give  separately  in  a  companion  volume ;  most  of  them 
are  rare,  and  only  known  to  us  in  this  most  scarce 
early  edition.  The  intermediate  edition  of  1670  also 
deserves  notice,  but  agrees  virtually  with  that  of  1691. 

Among  the  numerous  attractions  of  our  present 
work,  we  may  mention  the  rare  song  of  "  Love  lies 
bleeding  "  (found  on  p.  191) :  an  earnest  protest  against 
the  evils  of  the  days  when  Parliament  and  Army  were 
struggling  for  the  mastery,  and  the  country  suffered 
from  the  exactions  of  both.  It  is  only  here  that  we 
know  of  it  complete.  "  Lay  by  your  pleading,  Law 
lies  a  bleeding,"  its  companion  song  and  model,  to 
the  same  tune,  is  also  given  (p.  125),  entitled  "The 

Power 


VI.  INTRODUCTION. 

Power  of  the  Sword."  Such  contemporary  records  as 
these,  with  many  others  in  the  same  volume,  enable 
us  to  realise  the  situation.  Let  us  mention  some,  as 
being  closely  connected  :  "  Pym's  Anarchy"  (70)  ; 
"The  Scotch  War  "(93);  "  Mardyke"  ( 1 2 ) ;  "The 
New  Medley  of  the  Country-man,  the  Citizen,  and  the 
Soldier"  (182) ;  "  The  Rebel  Red  Coat"  (190) ;  and 
"Cromwell's  Coronation"  (254);  with  the  masterly 
description  of  Oliver's  Routing  the  Rump  (52).  Nor 
must  be  forgotten  the  burlesque  extravagance,  by 
worthy  Bishop  Richard  Corbet,  of  a  zealous  Puritan, 
utterly  crazed  in  fanaticism  and  conceit  (234).  This 
was  written  in  earlier  days  (Corbet  died  about  1638), 
when  Cavalier  and  Churchman  laughed  at  the  extra- 
vagance of  the  Puritan  ;  scarcely  foreseeing  how  grim 
in  power  would  be  those  stalwart  Ironsides  of  Crom- 
well, who  afterwards  exultingly  stabled  their  horses 
in  Cathedrals,  hacking  wood-carvings  of  Prebendal 
stalls  with  their  sabres,  burning  organs  and  muniment 
chests  for  fire-wood,  and  discharging  muskets  at 
stained  glass  windows  or  sculptured  saints ;  savagely 
haling  men  and  women  to  prison  or  to  execution  : 
and — believing  themselves  specially  inspired  and 
chosen  to  bind  kings  in  chains  and  nobles  with  links 
of  iron — praying  fiercely  before  battles,  in  which  they 
bore  down  irresistibly  upon  the  foe  that  had  first  in 
ignorance  despised  them. 

Nor 


INTRODUCTION.  vii. 

Nor  without  solid  value  to  us  are  the  few  humour- 
ous accounts  of  Puritans  in  their  New  England 
settlements  or  infant  colony  beyond  the  Atlantic. 
Though  it  is  framed  in  mockery,  something  of  an 
earnest  and  impressive  fervour  speaks  in  the  Zealous 
Puritan  (p.  95),  who  gathers  his  family  and  friends 
together,  about  to  voyage  across  seas  to  seek  "  free- 
dom to  worship  God."  This  was  recorded  nearly  two 
hundred  years  later  in  the  hymn  by  Felicia  Hemans, 
which  has  for  ever  become  associated  with  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  of  the  Mayflower,  1620.  Unfortunately,  their 
Puritan  followers  failed  to  learn  the  lesson  of  Tolera- 
tion. Unlike  Sterne's  negro  girl,  they  had  suffered 
persecution,  but  not  learned  mercy,  or  even  justice. 
They  ruthlessly  murdered  Quakers,  and  others  who 
claimed  right  of  private  judgment  in  religion,  and 
shewed  more  cruelty  to  Anne  Hutchinson,  Mary  Dyer, 
Robinson,  Stevenson,  and  many  more,  than  they  had 
ever  borne  themselves  from  their  enemies.  As  the 
Rev.  J.  B.  Marsden  says,  of  the  time  when  they 
savagely  silenced  with  drums,  and  then  butchered,  the 
Quakeress  Mrs.  Mary  Dyer  on  the  first  of  June, 
1660,  at  Boston  Common  : — "  The  brand  of  that  day's 
infamy  will  never  disappear  from  the  annals  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, nor  from  the  story  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers." 
(History  of  the  Early  Puritans,  p.  324.) 

We  may  smile  at  the  quaint  directness  of  the 

narrative 


viii.  INTRODUCTION. 

narrative,  in  reading  "  The  West-Countryman's 
Voyage  to  New  England"  (p.  275);  but  while  we 
smile,  we  can  see  the  incidents  clearly,  as  they  might 
have  been  beheld  by  more  friendly  eyes.  No  wonder 
he  was  willing  to  quit  the  land  after  he  had  "  staid 
there  among  them  till  he  was  weary  at  heart,"  even 
independently  of  the  crowning  grievance  that  he  "  had 
threescore  shillings  for  swearing  to  pay."  If  personal 
luxuries  are  to  be  so  heavily  taxed  it  is  distressing. 
We  may  be  sure  that  he  was  in  earnest  when  he 
declared  "  Itch  do  think  they  shall  catch  me  go 
thither  no  more." 

Even  the  Captain  of  the  Mayflower  himself,  if  we 
may  credit  that  impartial  witness  Professsor  H.  W. 
Longfellow,  had  become  heartily  tired  of  his  pious 
companions  : — 

"  Meanwhile  the  Master  alert,  but  with  dignified  air  and 
important, 

Scanning  with  watchful  eye  the  tide  and  the  wind  and  the 
weather, 

Walked  about  on  the  sands ;    and  the  people  crowded 
around  him, 

Saying  a  few  last  words,  and  enforcing  his  careful  remem- 
brance. 

Then,  taking  each  by  the  hand,  as  if  he  were  grasping  a 
tiller, 

Into  the  boat  he  sprang,  and  in  haste  shoved  off  to  his 
vessel, 

Glad  in  his  heart  to  get  rid  of  all  this  'worry  and  flurry, 

Glad 


INTRODUCTION.  ^X. 

Glad  to  be  gone  from  a  land  of  sand  and  sickness  and 

sorroiv, 
Short  allowance  of  victual,  and  plenty  of  nothing  but 

Gospel." 

Again,  when  yielding  to  the  sly  humour  of  "  The 
Way  to  Woo  a  Zealous  Lady  "  ( 77),  we  must  be  hard 
to  impress  if  no  conviction  is  formed  that  even  thus 
dangerous  to  silly  women  were  many  who  assumed 
for  their  own  purposes  the  Puritan  disguise,  and 
were  ready  to  wear  whatever  mask  might  be  in 
fashion.  Some  hidden  joke  against  the  Citizens, 
known  to  contemporaries,  but  now  almost  beyond 
discovery,  enhanced  the  mirthfulness  of  even  such 
absurdity  as  "  The  Bow  Goose"  (153).  The  account 
of  a  Fire  on  London  Bridge  (87),  gains  all  its  gro- 
tesqueness  from  being  in  the  manner  of  pious  ballad- 
mongers,  such  as  framed  some  of  those  doleful  ditties 
of  Providential  Warning  and  Goodly  Counsels  that 
were  dispersed  on  broadsheets  to  the  delectation  of 
the  faithful.  To  us  it  gains  some  interest  when  seen 
to  be  the  original  of  the  still-familiar  and  condensed 
Nursery  rhyme  : 

"  Three  Children  sliding  on  the  Ice, 
All  on  a  summer's  day  ; 

It  so  fell  out  they  all  fell  in, 
The  rest  they  ran  away. 

But  had  these  children  been  at  Church, 

Or  sliding  on  dry  ground, 
I  durst  to  wage  a  hundred  mark 

They  had  not  then  been  drown'd.  You 


X.  INTRODUCTION. 

You  parents  that  have  children  dear, 

And  eke  you  that  have  none, 
If  you  would  have  them  safe  abroad, 

Pray  keep  them  safe  at  home." 

(M.  Cooper's  Philomel,  1744,  p.  209.) 

Stories  of  Countrymen  astonished  at  the  rarities  of 
London  Town  have  always  been  a  source  of  glee,  and 
one  is  here  (323),  as  well  as  a  description  of  the  New 
Exchange  with  all  its  curious  ware's,  not  forgetting  the 
Buttoned  Smock  (134).  The  changes  in  Old  Eng- 
land, almost  turned  to  New  (266),  and  the  censure  of 
the  Apostate  World  (  79 ),  as  well  as  the  contrast 
afforded  by  an  Old  Soldier  of  the  Queen's  (31)  and 
the  still  earlier  description  of  the  defeat  of  Spain  and 
her  Armada  in  eighty-eight  (82),  lend  zest  to  the 
Cromwellian  contrast.  A  few  whimsical  stories  in 
verse  are  of  the  ruder  humour  which  has  always  been 
popular;  A  Merry  Song  of  a  Husbandman,  whose 
wife  cleverly  gets  him  released  from  a  bad  bargain, 
cheating  the  Devil  (p.  17),  or  the  still  coarser  tale  on 
a  similar  theme  (no)  :  a  tale  that,  with  frequent  vari- 
ations, meets  us  often  elsewhere.  Both  are  narrated 
with  a  homely  directness,  not  unlike  the  free  handling 
which  worthy  Mat.  Prior  delighted  in ;  and  which,  we 
are  assured  by  Dr.  Johnson,  did  not  hinder  the  Poems 
of  Hans  Carvel,  the  Dove,  and  Paulo  Purganti  from 
being,  even  until  close  on  the  end  of  last  century,  "  a 
Lady's  Book."  Well  then,  by  right  of  way  established 

by 


INTRODUCTION.  XI. 

by  Dr.  Richard  Corbet,  Bishop  successively  of  Oxford 
and  Norwich  ( p.  234,  and  see  his  "  Journey  into 
France,"  edit.  1661,  p.  64),  and  probably  by  Arch- 
bishop Usher  likewise  (p.  no),  the  Merry  Drollery 
may,  perhaps,  be  regarded  as  a  Bishop's  Book;  if 
that  be  any  compliment  and  recommendation.  Even 
the  Puritans  and  Sectaries  would  not  have  objected  to 
it  being  so  esteemed.  But  they  held  none  of  the 
Drolleries  in  favour ;  Choice  Drollery  being  treated  by 
them  with  the  utmost  rigour,  so  that  its  rare  occurrence 
now  is  not  anyway  marvellous. 

§  2. — THE  BALLADS  AND  THE  COMMONWEALTH. 

No  good  end  can  be  served  by  exaggerating  the 
importance  of  political  ballads.  We  may  leave  the 
continually  misquoted  words  of  Fletcher  of  Saltoun 
quietly  in  a  corner,  for  once,  regarding  the  popular 
songs  of  a  nation ;  inasmuch  as,  if  the  phrase  he  em- 
ployed means  anything  at  all,  it  makes  quite  as  much 
for  falsehood,  and  the  misleading  of  public  opinion,  as 
it  does  for  inducing  sound  judgment.  The  facts  of  the 
case  are  not  hard  to  discover.  Who  among  us  would 
be  willing  to  accept  as  final  the  verdict  of  some  street 
rhymester  or  Mug-house  politician,  even  although  it 
found  acceptance  with  a  multitude  of  the  gross  vulgar  ? 
Your  ballad-monger,  your  inventor  of  "  Cocks,"  your 
penny-a-liner  for  the  prints  that  circulate  amidst  what 

we 


Xll.  INTRODUCTION. 

we  irreverently  term  the  Masses  or  the  Million,  have 
so  little  personal  respect  for  Truth,  that  they  not  only 
are  unwilling  to  misemploy  their  time  in  a  wild-goose 
chase  after  her,  but  they  actually  yield  a  determined 
preference  to  falsehood,  on  account  of  it  leaving  them 
such  unrestricted  play  of  fancy  as  may  satisfy  their 
self-conceit.  No  need  to  specify  offenders.  So  long  as 
such  catch-pennies  circulate,  and  attract  attention,  the 
originators  heed  not  what  amount  of  adulteration 
may  have  become  mingled  with  a  semblance  of  truth. 
As  the  manufacture  of  a  fraudulent  account  is  easier 
than  investigating  conflicting  evidence,  let  us  not 
wonder  that  these  caterers  for  the  public  give  pre- 
ference to  what  is  untrue. 

A  remembrance  of  this  tendency  to  falsify  ought  to 
accompany  our  examination  of  such  historical  ballads 
or  political  songs  and  satires  as  may  be  proffered,  as- 
suming to  be  important  contributions  to  a  knowledge 
of  history.  Lord  Macaulay,  it  is  well  known,  was  the 
most  skilful  employer  of  the  varied  hints  and  details, 
gathered  by  combined  industry  and  intelligence,  from 
amid  those  dusty  archives  of  the  mob,  broadsides, 
garlands,  penny  merriments,  and  song-books,  manu- 
script or  printed.  But,  it  is  fair  to  the  memory  of  that 
sound-hearted  man  and  captivating  historian  to  re- 
member, that  in  most  cases  he  attached  no  more 
importance  to  those  fugitive  records  of  the  past  than 

was 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii. 

was  their  due.  They  enriched  his  pages,  and  gave 
them  colour,  but  he  sought  elsewhere  for  his  ground- 
work and  outline.  His  chief,  and  almost  his  only, 
fault  was  an  obstinate  retention  of  any  expressed 
opinion  of  his  own,  despite  the  weight  of  opposing 
evidence  that  might  be  afterwards  brought  to  bear 
against  it.  He  knew,  as  well  as  anybody,  that  a  per- 
son who  by  some  accident  or  other  becomes  a  favourite 
or  object  of  aversion  to  "  the  many-headed,"  can 
either  be  painted  brightly  or  bespattered  foully  by  the 
Balladist  who  seeks  for  praise  and  pence,  with  total 
independence  of  all  facts  or  even  probabilities.  And 
the  prejudice  extends  much  higher  in  the  social  scale 
than  we  are  at  all  times  ready  to  admit.  We  greedily 
accept  whatever  seems  to  favour  our  particular  choice, 
and  as  willingly  acknowledge  the  sufficiency  of  any- 
thing that  tells  against  the  persons  or  the  practices 
honoured  by  our  hatred. 

We  do  not,  therefore,  attach  extraordinary  weight  to 
the  historical  evidence  afforded  by  the  songs  against 
the  Rump  Parliament  in  Merry  Drollery.  Partizan 
spirit  has  been  busy,  and  where  such  is  the  case  there 
is  always  a  likelihood  that  the  features  of  the  individual 
portraiture  may  be  more  than  a  little  distorted.  But, 
after  making  this  concession,  we  think  it  will  be  ad- 
mitted that  such  materials  as  we  have  in  this  volume, 
combine  fairly  with  what  is  told  elsewhere  by  State 

enactments, 


XIV.  INTRODUCTION. 

enactments,  proclamations,  digests,  and  private  diaries 
or  biographies.  They  reveal  a  most  uncomfortable 
state  of  affairs,  political  and  social,  in  the  closing  days 
of  the  Long  Parliament.  Not  even  so  large  a  col- 
lection of  avowedly  "  malignant"  writings,  as  the 
celebrated  "  Rump"  Ballads  of  1660  and  1662,  could 
show  us,  so  well  as  our  own  more  varied  Drolleries, 
how  men  thought  and  acted,  murmured  under  op- 
pression, paltered  with  the  truth,  sotted  and  rotted  in 
foul  corners,  slinking  out  of  danger,  and  cherishing  a 
hope  of  revenge  or  licentious  revelry,  while  the  iron 
hand  of  Despotism  tried  to  fetter  the  nation,  and 
sanctimonious  schismatics  warred  with  one  another  for 
supremacy. 

Of  late  days,  thanks  in  great  part  to  the  labours  of 
Thomas  Carlyle,  we  have  learned  to  understand  what 
true  greatness  there  was  in  one  man,  who  alone  was 
able  to  keep  the  troubled  realm  in  order ;  who  both 
by  his  own  right  arm  and  by  his  skilful  management 
of  others,  each  the  right  worker  in  the  fitting  place 
and  at  the  proper  time,  secured  more  of  success  for 
this  our  Commonwealth  than  could  reasonably  have 
been  expected,  when  remembering  what  mutually- 
antagonistic  natures  composed  the  government.  As 
one  of  our  songs  declared  of  that  day  (p.  167),  "We 
are  fourscore  Religions  strong  !"  And  it  is  noteworthy 
that,  while  contempt  and  abhorence  are  lavished  on  a 

host 


INTRODUCTION.  XV. 

host  of  selfish,  arrogant,  or  hypocritical  time-servers, 
there  is  a  very  different  treatment  accorded  to  OLIVER 
CROMWELL.  Jests  are  frequent  on  his  copper  nose,  it 
is  true,  and  on  his  supposed  early  connection  with 
brewing  vats ;  the  steps  of  his  advancement  are  satiric- 
ally chronicled,  and  his  assumption  of  almost  regal 
power.  Nevertheless,  it  is  evident  that  personally  he 
is  regarded  with  more  favour  than  the  hated  Harrison, 
the  contemptible  Lambert,  Hewson  the  one-eyed 
Cobbler,  the  gloomy  Bradshaw,  or  Hugh  Peters  the 
fanatical  Tub-preacher ;  than  the  licentious  buffoon 
(as  he  was  held  to  be)  Henry  Marten,  or  the  prosy 
and  intolerable  Sir  Harry  Vane,  from  whom  Cromwell 
himself  solemnly  prayed  to  be  delivered.  Even  as,  in 
earlier  days,  the  bloodthirstiness,  rapacity,  and  un- 
bridled lust  of  the  huge  Henry  VIII.  did  not  destroy 
the  popularity  he  enjoyed  as  "  bluff  King  Hal ;"  so,  it 
is  evident,  the  harsh  discipline  and  oppressive  exac- 
tions of  Oliver  Cromwell,  with  all  the  manifestations 
of  his  selfish  ambition  and  indulgence  in  regal  pomp 
and  splendour,  did  not  altogether  hinder  him  from 
being  regarded  with  affection  among  the  Cavaliers 
themselves,  who  learnt  to  talk  of  him  familiarly  as 
"Old  Noll."  Had  it  not  been  for  the  remembrance 
of  one  black  deed, — the  written  consent  he  had  given 
in  1649  to  the  useless  slaughter  of  their  King,  Charles 
I., — there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Oliver  had  grown  to 

be 


xvi.  INTRODUCTION. 

be  understood  and  liked  sufficiently,  even  by  those 
who  had  wagered  their  lives  against  him,  to  have  been 
accepted  as  their  lawful  sovereign,  if  he  had  obeyed 
the  satirical  command  (p.  254)  "  Oliver,  Oliver,  take 
up  the  Crown  ! " 

It  has  been  the  fashion  of  later  years  to  try  and 
deify  many  of  the  inferior  actors  of  that  tragic  drama, 
and  with  prolix  exactitude  we  have  been  treated  to 
the  details  of  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds  of  several 
other  Regicides,  leaders  in  parliament  if  not  in  the 
army.  But  the  simple  fact  remains,  that,  in  these 
days  of  the  Civil  War  and  Protectorate,  no  figure  stands 
out  as  the  embodiment  of  a  stalwart  Englishman,  so 
entirely  commanding  the  sympathies  of  after-times,  as 
Oliver  Cromwell  himself.  He  was  far  from  faultless, 
but  his  rugged  nature,  his  commanding  abilities,  and 
a  certain  large-hearted  honesty,  even  amid  the  per- 
plexing intrigues  and  pious  fraudulence  of  his  com- 
panions, lift  him  high  above  the  crowd  of  usurpers. 
His  rude  humour  was,  like  that  of  the  first  Napoleon, 
not  unalloyed  with  horse-play  and  coarse  jests :  as 
witness  his  unseemly  inking  Henry  Marten's  face  when 
signing  the  Royal  death-warrant ;  and  his  unsavoury 
rejoinder  when  Magna  Charta  was  mentioned  to  him, 
as  an  impediment  to  some  of  his  proceedings.  The 
extremely  rigid  formalists  were  incapable  of  seeing 
anything  agreeable  in  merriment;  even  as  other 

invalids 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii. 

invalids  are  afflicted  with  colour-blindness,  or  inability 
to  distinguish  betwixt  the  fragrance  of  flowers  and 
those  rank  odours  whereof  Coleridge  at  Cologne 
counted  two-and-seventy  distinct  varieties,  as  indeed 
he  might  have  done  in  his  own  country.  But  the 
reputation  of  Cromwell  suffered  not  through  indul- 
gence of  his  pleasantries.  On  the  contrary,  such 
unbendings  from  austerity  drew  many  towards  him. 
His  army  loved  him,  like  his  own  family;  and  the 
contrast  between  true  grandeur  and  pestilent  incom- 
petence was  beheld  whenever  he  had  passed  away,  in 
1658,  and  left  The  Gang  of  rival  claimants,  who  were 
all  proved  incapable  to  bend  the  bow  of  the  dead 
Ulysses. 

The  Restoration  became  a  necessity,  not  so  much 
from  a  survival  of  enthusiastic  love  to  the  Stuarts  as 
from  the  intense  disgust  excited  by  the  Parliament, 
the  Independents,  and  the  disorganised  soldiery. 
These  fell,  chiefly  owing  to  their  own  inherent 
rottenness.  How  little  was  done  to  reward  the  hopes 
of  those  who  looked  for  establishment  of  a  pure 
exalted  monarchy,  avails  not  now  to  tell. 

Of  the  conflict  between  Oliver  and  the  men  who 
were  endeavouring  to  dispossess  him  of  the  power  he 
held,  few  records  surpass  in  value  one  contemporary 
ballad  (found  here  on  page  62),  filled  with  exultation 
over  the  downfall  of  the  Rump.  What  masterly 
c  satire, 


xviii.  INTRODUCTION. 

satire,  cutting  both  ways,  we  find  in  the  verse  telling 
of  "  brave  Oliver's  "  rebuke  to  his  old  companion  : — 

"  It  went  to  the  heart  of  Sir  Henry  Vane 
To  think  what  a  terrible  fall  he  should  have  : 

For  he  who  did  once  in  the  Parliament  reign 
Was  call'd,  as  I  hear,  a  dissembling  knave. 

Who  gave  him  that  name  you  may  easily  know, 
'Twas  one  that  studied  the  art  full  well ; 

You  may  swear  it  fwas  true,  if  he  call'd  him  so, 
And  ho*w  to  dissemble  Fm  sure  he  can  tell." 

There  is  no  mistaking  it,  despite  this  irresistible  gibe 
against  Noll  himself,  he  is  the  better  loved  for  crushing 
the  horde  of  public  enemies  thus  summarily.  The 
Commonwealth  is  divided  against  itself,  and  its  fall  is 
known  to  be  inevitable.  There  had  been  nothing 
(scarcely  excepting  his  incurable  duplicity  and  con- 
tinual breaches  of  faith)  which  had  been  charged 
against  the  murdered  King,  during  the  Civil  War — 
and  for  which  he  was  brought  to  trial  in  a  dangerously 
illegal  manner,  and  slaughtered  ruthlessly, — but  what 
was  afterwards  perpetrated  against  the  constitutional 
liberties  of  England  by  the  men  who  had  arrogated  to 
themselves  the  right  to  judge  and  execute  their  Sov- 
ereign. 

As  helping  us  materially  to  understand  those  times, 
which  can  never  be  without  the  gravest  interest  to  us 
while  we  remain  a  nation,  the  Merry  Drollery,  Complete, 
is  truly  valuable,  and  now  re-printed.  Ridentem  dicere 
verum  quid  vetat  ? 

§  3. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix. 

§  3.  THE  WRITERS  OF  THE  SONGS. 

We  need  not  go  to  Joseph  Addison  to  learn  that 
"  a  reader  seldom  peruses  a  book  till  he  knows  whether 
the  writer  of  it  be  a  black  or  a  fair  man,  of  a  mild  or 
choleric  disposition,  married  or  a  bachelor,  with  other 
particulars  of  the  like  nature,  that  conduce  very  much 
to  the  right  understanding  of  an  author."  "  Who 
wrote  it  ?  "  is  a  question  most  of  us  are  in  the  habit  of 
asking,  when  any  book  or  song  gives  us  pleasure. 
Let  us  mention  the  writers  of  some  songs  and  ballads 
in  Merry  Drollery,  Complete. 

Ten  of  the  Songs  are  by  Alexander  Brome,  whose 
gay  spirit  made  him  a  favourite  among  the  Cavaliers ; 
his  numerous  Epistles  in  verse,  preserved  among  his 
Poems,  prove  the  intimacy  of  his  friendship  with  many 
leading  men, — Charles  Cotton,  Colonel  Lovelace, 
Thomas  Stanley,  &c.  Though  given  to  writing  Bac- 
chanalian ditties,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been  of 
dissolute  habits,  and  his  Muse  is  singularly  decorous 
in  morals,  like  himself  preferring  Wine  to  Women.  A 
word  here  or  there  of  plain  language  may  exceed  our 
present  forms  of  speech ;  but  he  never  wantonly  in- 
dulges in  foulness  of  thought  or  expression,  and  we 
love  him  well  for  his  own  sake,  as  also  for  the  friendly 
labours  he  encountered  to  print  and  publish  his  name- 
sake Richard  Brome's  choice  Comedies.  Few  of  these 
might  have  come  down  to  us,  but  for  such  editorial 

care. 


XX.  INTRODUCTION. 

care.  He  himself  was  reproached  by  a  friend  (J.  B.) 
for  wasting  his  poetic  gifts  in  mere  Song-writing : — 

"Why  pedler'st  thus  thy  muse  ?     Why  dost  set  ope 

A  shop  of  wit  to  set  thejidlers  up  ? 

Fie,  prodigal !  canst  statuated  shine, 

By  the  abuse  of  Women,  praise  of  Wine  ? 

Or  such  like  toyes,  which  every  hour  are 

By  every  pen  spu'd  forth  int'  every  ear  ? 

Thy  comely  Muse  dress  up  in  robes,  and  raise 
Majestic  splendour  to  thy  wreath  of  bayes  : 
Don't  prostitute  her  thus,  her  Majesty 
{Like  that  of  Princes)  when  the  vulgar  see 
Too  frequently,  respect  and  awe  are  fled, 
Contempt  and  scorn  remaineth  in  their  stead." 

But  we  believe  that  Alexander  Brome  received  quite 
as  much  fame,  and  more  instant  popularity,  for  this 
light  work  in  his  Lyrics,  as  he  could  have  won  by  sus- 
tained labours  at  such  disturbed  times.  He  answers 
J.  B.  (who  wrote  a  Tragedy,  not  traced,  in  1652) : — 

"If  making  Sonnets  were  so  great  a  sin, 
Repent ;  'twas  you  at  first  did  draw  me  in  : 
And  if  the  making  one  Song  be  not  any, 
I  can't  believe  I  sin  in  making  many. 

But  oh  !  the  Themes  displease  you,  you  repine, 
Because  I  throw  down  Women,  set  up  Wine : 
Why  that  offends  you,  I  can  see  no  reason, 
Unless,  'cause  I,  not  you,  commit  the  treason. 
Our  judgments  jump  in  both,  we  both  do  love 
Good  Wine  and  Women ;  if  I  disapprove 
The  sleights  of  some,  the  matter's  understood, 
I'm  ne'er  the  less  belov'd  by  th'  truly  good." 

And 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi. 

And  he  plainly  declares  that,  already,  for  having 
written  on  some  of  those  high  themes,  "of  State- 
matters,  and  affairs  of  Kings/7  his  teeth  had  been 
nearly  beaten  out  by  the  Parliamentarians.  He  died 
in  1665,  within  a  lustre  after  the  Restoration. 

We  feel  less  certain  as  to  the  authorship  of  Thomas 
Jordan ;  some  of  the  flowers  of  his  "  Royal  Arbor  of 
Loyal  Poesie,"  1664,  being  apparently  of  foreign 
growth,  and  transplanted.  But,  probably  we  have  to 
thank  him  for  the  clever  parody  on  Thomas  Carew, 
which  describes  "Pym's  Anarchy"  of  1642,  beginning, 

"Aske  me  no  more  why  there  appears 

Dayly  such  troops  of  Dragooneers/'  &c.     (p.  70). 

We  know  not  to  whose  pen  we  are  indebted  for  the 
delightful  companion-songs,  "  The  Cavalier's  Com- 
plaint," beginning  "  Come,  Jack,  let's  drink  a  pot  of 
Ale"  (p.  52),  with  Answer  to  it,  "  I  marvel,  Dick,  that 
having  been,"  &c.  They  lift  our  thoughts  to  con- 
sideration of  a  nobler  type  of  gentlemen  than  the 
roysterers  who  brought  discredit  on  the  King's 
party.  Printed,  and  widely  popular  as  a  broadside, 
within  a  few  months  after  Charles  the  Second  arrived 
in  London,  they  give  trustworthy  evidence  of  what 
was  felt  and  spoken  by  those  gallant  Royalists  who 
had  so  often  imperilled  life  and  liberty  in  his  cause. 
For  him  their  cash  and  plate  had  been  cheerfully 
given,  their  estates  had  been  seized  and  confiscated 

by 


XX11.  INTRODUCTION. 

by  the  rebel  Parliament,  and  their  sufferings  had 
been  borne  patiently,  until  the  last  lingering  hopes 
were  dispelled  on  beholding  the  personal  unworthiness 
of  the  monarch  whom  they  had  welcomed  back  to  the 
throne  of  his  murdered  father.  We  mark  them 
retreating,  disappointed  and  disgusted,  from  the 
Court,  where  gilded  popinjays,  sleekest  time-servers, 
and  handsome  wantons  alone  are  cherished.  We 
remember  an  event  of  evil  augury  was  recorded,  that, 
even  on  the  night  of  that  memorable  twenty-ninth  of 
May,  1660;  the  royal  birthday,  moreover;  when  all  his 
Capital  was  a-blaze  with  bonfires,  and  filled  with  loyal 
enthusiasm,  and  when  many  an  earnest  thanksgiving 
to  heaven  was  uttered  by  devoted  Cavaliers  who  had 
prayed  for  him  and  for  his  cause  during  more  than  ten 
years  of  exile — the  King  himself  was  so  lost  to  a  sense 
of  common  decency,  as  well  as  of  honour  and  religion, 
that  he  allowed  it  to  become  publicly  notorious  he  was 
then  toying  with  Barbara  Palmer,  afterwards  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  at  Sir  Samuel  Morland's  house 
in  Lambeth.  Thenceforward,  all  was  in  accordance 
with  the  bad  beginning.  Female  influence  en- 
slaved him,  and  the  most  easy  and  good-natured 
of  all  monarchs,  whose  abilities  as  well  as  dispo- 
sition had  offered  much  for  praise,  lent  himself 
to  such  counsellors  as  not  only  degraded  him  per- 
sonally, but  also  impoverished,  humiliated  and  in 

great 


INTRODUCTION.  xxiii. 

great  part  corrupted  the  nation.  How  gross  was  the 
mismanagement,  how  foul  were  the  orgies,  we  can 
best  understand  by  one  fact,  that  those  English  Caval- 
iers whose  hearts  were  sound  came  speedily  to  regret 
the  triumph  of  their  cause,  and  almost  to  lament  the 
passing  away  of  the  Commonwealth,  which,  although 
intolerant,  covetous,  arrogant  and  cruel,  had  yet  been 
respected  abroad  for  courage  and  high  principle.  So 
much  more  unwilling  are  we,  generally,  despite 
Hamlet's  experience,  to 

"bear  the  ills  we  have, 
than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of." 

Historically  of  deep  significance  is  the  dialogue  (on 
p.  131),  "a  Quarrel  betwixt  Tower-Hill  and  Tyburn," 
referring  to  the  expected  execution  of  the  Regicides. 
There  is  no  mirth  here,  scarcely  any  humour  even 
of  a  sardonic  kind  ;  all  is  stern,  bitter  hatred  and 
scorn.  It  is  not  a  ravening  for  blood,  as  though 
revengefully  afraid  of  the  criminals  escaping  punish- 
ment, but  rather  a  contemptuous  and  cruel  impatience 
to  cleanse  the  land  from  the  presence  of  those  who  in 
their  day  of  power  had  shown  themselves  devoid  of 
mercy.  Nothing  but  abhorrence  salutes  the  miserable 
and  cowardly  Hugh  Peters,  whose  blood,  it  was  felt, 
would  defile  the  scaffold  on  which  braver  men  had 
laid  down  their  lives.  The  fanatical  enthusiast  Harri- 
son, a  ruthless  tool  of  tyranny,  and  probably  a  mad 

man. 


XXIV.  INTRODUCTION. 

man,  had  three  days  earlier  died  gallantly  at  the  same 
place,  Charing  Cross,  (on  i3th  October,  1660,)  as 
became  one  who  believed  he  saw  the  coming  Mil- 
lenium of  the  elect  saints.  On  his  way  to  execution, 
some  unfeeling  spectator  called  out  mockingly,  "Where 
is  your  good  Old  Cause  ?  "  With  a  cheerful  smile,  the 
dying  man  clapt  his  hand  on  his  breast,  and  answered, 
"  Here  it  is !  I  am  going  to  seal  it  with  my  blood."  As 
he  drew  nearer  to  the  gallows,  beholding  it,  he  seemed 
transported  with  joy,  and  when  asked  how  he  did, 
replied  "  Never  better  in  my  life,"  declaring  that  he 
saw  the  crown  of  glory  prepared  for  him.  Sir  Henry 
Vane,  we  must  admit,  approved  himself  to  be  no  un- 
worthy follower  of  the  ancient  stoics  and  republicans 
he  admired,  by  the  dignity  wherewith  he  made  his  place 
of  butchery,  on  Tower  Hill  become  an  altar  of  self- 
sacrifice.  After  a  long  imprisonment,  he  suffered  in 
June,  1662.  His  address  to  the  people  had  been 
forbidden,  and  as  he  himself  declared,  "  It  is  a  bad 
cause  which  cannot  bear  the  words  of  a  dying  man." 
Samuel  Pepys  had  witnessed  the  execution  of  Harrison : 
quaintly  recording  how  at  being  hanged,  drawn,  and 
quartered,  he  was  "  looking  as  cheerful  as  any  man 
could  do  in  that  condition  ;"  and  how  it  was  reported 
that  Harrison  said  "  he  was  sure  to  come  shortly  at 
the  right  hand  of  Christ  to  judge  them  that  now  had 
judged  him ;"  and  that  "his  wife  do  expect  his  coming 

again." 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV. 

again."  Pepys  seems  to  have  enjoyed  the  view  of 
several  other  such  scenes  of  slaughter,  and  indeed  all 
sight-seeing  was  pleasant  to  him  •  but  he  yields  steady 
testimony  to  the  gallant  bearing  of  Vane,  who  "  in  all 
things  appeared  the  most  resolved  man  that  ever  died 
in  that  manner,  and  showed  more  of  heate  than 
cowardize,  but  yet  with  all  humility  and  gravity." 
Later,  he  mentions  that  "  the  courage  of  Sir  H.  Vane 
at  his  death  is  talked  on  every  where  as  a  miracle." 
And  Will  Swan  declared  to  him  that  "Sir  H.  Vane 
must  be  gone  to  Heaven,  for  he  died  as  much  a 
martyr  and  saint  as  ever  man  did  ;  and  that  the  King 
hath  lost  more  by  that  man's  death  than  he  will  get 
again  a  great  while."  There  can  be  no  question  of  the 
fact  that  a  reaction  began  to  set  in  after  beholding 
such  courage,  and  contrasting  it  with  the  misconduct 
of  those  in  power,  whose  loyalty  could  only  manifest 
itself  in  servility  and  persecutions.  Let  us  confess, 
however,  that  if  there  was  not  to  be  entire  amnesty  or 
indemnity,  such  men  as  Hugh  Peters  were  more  fitted 
for  Tyburn  tree  than  the  block  on  Tower  HJ11  :  the 
rabble  rout  of  rebellion  was  not  worthy  of  mingling 
blood  with  those  royalist  soldiers  who  had  died 
valiantly,  imploring  a  blessing  on  King  Charles. 

A  score  of  songs  were  added,  indeed  several  of 
them  had  been  written  after  the  publication  of  Merry 
Drollery,  the  first  edition,  in  1661.  Among  them  are 

two, 


XXVI.  INTRODUCTION. 

two,  from  his  comedies,  by  "  Glorious  John,"  whose 
hey-day  of  popularity  belongs  properly  to  the  date  of 
our  Westminster  Drolleries.  As  we  pass  onward  from 
our  earlier  choice  in  poetry, — such  time  as  Keats  and 
Tennyson  allured  us  chiefly,  with  sensuous  imagery 
and  artificial  trickeries  of  pleasant  sound — some  of  us, 
whose  love  of  verse  is  strong  enough  to  have  survived 
the  sturm  und  drang  Zeit  of  youthful  passion,  and  our 
entrance  on  the  practical  business  of  middle  age,  feel 
an  ever-deepening  sense  of  Dryden's  grandeur.  Other 
men  have  surpassed  him  in  the  ability  to  harmonize 
their  powers, — powers  immeasurably  weaker  than  his, 
and  have  secured  a  position  in  their  country's  litera- 
ture by  single  poems  complete  in  themselves,  and  thus 
satisfying  a  fastidious  taste.  But  of  all  the  great, 
capricious,  blundering  giants  and  heroic  demi-gods  in 
the  poetic  Walhalla,  none  is  more  absolutely  a  crown- 
less  king  of  the  Infanti  Perduti  than  our  almost-for- 
gotten John  Dryden.  The  robust  manliness,  the 
sound-heartedness  of  this  sturdy  Englishman,  against 
whom  faction  clamoured  loudly,  is  so  imperishable 
that  his  most  grievous  faults  cannot  efface  his  grandeur. 
His  worst  utterances  we  are  willing  to  forget,  his  errors 
of  judgment  and  of  conduct  are  at  once  condoned,  by 
all  who  have  learnt  to  know  him  thoroughly.  His 
genius  was  irregular,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  genius  such 
as  few  have  equalled.  His  grasp  of  power  once  laid 

on 


INTRODUCTION.  XXvii. 


on  us,  the  sustained  strength  and  beauty  of  his  verse, 

"The  long  majestic  march,  and  energy  divine," 
once  fairly  recognised,  he  is  mighty  enough  to  hold  us 
bound  to  him  for  ever.  He  was  alike  the  sociable  and 
homely-attired  Citizen,  who  gave  delight  to  a  circle  of 
admiring  Wits  at  coffee-houses  ;  and  yet,  when  a  dress- 
suit  was  donned  and  actors  were  obsequious,  the  Play- 
wright whom  a  clamourous  public  set  to  task-work, 
loving  somewhat  to  excess  bombastic  rant  and  courtly 
gallantry :  whose  tragedy  queens  bespoke  their  sorrows 
in  rhymed  couplets,  and  whose  impassioned  heroines 
threw  overboard  their  modesty,  with  less  compunction 
than  measly  pork  is  cast  into  the  deep  within  the 
Tropics.  Glorious  John  !  He  could  captivate  men 
with  his  flowing  talk  at  Wills',  and  no  less  bind 
attention  to  his  pages  by  vivacious  criticism  in  spark- 
ling Prefaces,  that  half  disguised  the  soundness  of 
their  common-sense  by  seeming  to  have  been  written 
without  more  premeditation  than  his  daily  gossip. 
What  scores  of  lesser  men  are  talked  about,  and  com- 
mented on  by  learned  Pundits,  to  the  world's  admira- 
tion, simply  because  they  are  the  lesser  and  more 
easily  measured;  while  Dryden  in  unwieldy  folios 
remains  comparatively  unread,  unpraised.  Yet  was  he 
the  creator  of  the  loftiest  satires  in  the  English  lan- 
guage, the  writer  of  a  manly,  masterly  prose  style,  dis- 
tinct from  all  preceding,  the  voluminous  author  of 

translations, 


XXVlii.  INTRODUCTION. 

translations,  panegyrics,  fables,  and  odes,  beside  trage- 
dies and  comedies  that  enwrap  two  score  of  songs 
delightfully  musical,  and  not  so  naughty  as  to  sin 
beyond  forgiveness.  Even  such  trifles  as  we  have  here 
from  him  (on  pp.  171,  292)  are  pleasant  gifts  that  we 
can  thankfully  receive. 

His  friend  and  fellow-workman,  Sir  William  D'Ave- 
nant,  yields  us  two  other  songs  :  One  of  which  helped 
Mistress  Mary  Davis,  the  lady  who  first  sang  it,  to  a 
reversion  of  the  heart  of  our  inflammable  "Old  Rowley." 
"  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground,"  is  here,  and  also 
another  half-phrensied  but  pathetic  ditty,  a  sort  of 
dirge,  "  Wake  all  you  dead,  what  ho  !  "  (pp.  290, 151). 
The  Anacreontic,  beginning  "  The  thirsty  earth  drinks 
up  the  rain,"  meets  us  (on  p.  22)  from  one  of  the 
three  friends  who  feasted  D'Avenant  with  praise  for 
his  poem  of  "Gondibert"  (concerning  which  un- 
finished Epic,  see  the  lampoons  from  mocking  wits, 
on  pp.  100,  1 1 8)  :  that  "melancholy  Cowley,"  whose 
"  Essays  in  Prose  and  Verse,"  left  as  a  legacy,  and 
published  by  Bishop  Sprat,  1668,  are  among  the  most 
delicious  that  were  ever  penned ;  and  whose  choice 
"  Chronicle"  of  imaginary  Mistresses, 

"  Margarita  first  possest, 

If  I  remember  well,  my  breast,"  &c., 

we  prize  more  highly  than  his  ambitious  "  Davideis," 
or  the  "  Davideidos." 

Some 


INTRODUCTION.  XXIX. 


Some  doubt  exists  as  to  whether  we  owe  to  William 
Cavendish,  first  Duke  of  Newcastle,  the  lively  Song 
(p.  237)  "I  doat,  I  doat,  but  am  a  sot  to  show  it."  It 
is  partly  quoted  in  his  "  Triumphant  Widow,"  written 
during  exile,  but  not  printed  until  1677.  We  have  it 
complete  in  the  1661  edition  of  Merry  Drollery.  It 
is  certainly  in  his  spirit,  and  until  the  claim  of  another 
author  to  it  has  been  proved  by  demonstration  we 
may  hold  it  to  be  his. 

Fortunately,  no  doubt  afflicts  us  concerning  whom 
we  have  to  thank  for  that  gay  "  Ballad  on  a  Wedding," 
and  that  mirthful  record  of  "  Apollo's  Session  of  the 
Poets,"  which  adorn  our  volume  (pp.  101,  72).  To 
Sir  John  Suckling  be  the  praise  for  verses  that  never 
lose  their  charm.  Men  jested  upon  him  for  his 
gaudily-attired  hundred  horsemen,  whose  tailoring 
surpassed  their  prowess  and  their  service  in  the  field  : 

"  Sir  John  got  him  on  an  ambling  Nag, 

To  Scotland  for  to  ride  a, 

With  a  hundred  horse  more,  all  his  own  he  swore, 
To  guard  him  on  every  side  a,"  &c. 

— (Musarum  D elicits.) 
And  again — 

"  I  tell  fhee,  Jack,  thou  gav'st  the  King 
So  rare  a  present,  that  no  thing 

Could  welcomer  have  been  ; 
A  hundred  horse  !  beshrew  my  heart, 
It  was  a  brave  heroick  part, 

The  like  will  scarce  be  seen,"  &c. 

— (Le  Prince  d9  Amour.) 

This 


XXX.  INTRODUCTION. 

This  was  answered  by  "  I  tell  thee,  fool,  who  e're  thou 
be,"  &c.  (Ibid.  1660,  p.  148.)  Some  lack  of  moral  or 
physical  courage  to  repel  and  punish  the  ferocious 
ruffianism  of  a  Court-bully  exposed  Suckling  to  a 
graver  censure ;  and  a  degenerate  namesake,  so  lately 
as  1836,  had  the  vile  mendacity  to  insinuate  without 
proof  a  charge  of  suicide.  But  always  by  us  must  Sir 
John  Suckling  be  lovingly  rememhered  for  some  of 
the  daintiest  bewitching  poems  of  love  and  merriment 
One  who  assailed  him  ridiculously  in  the  verses  to  the 
tune  of  "John  Dory,"  referred  to  above,  viz.,  Dr. 
James  Smith  (unless  the  mockery  came  from  his  friend 
Sir  John  Mennis)  gave  us  "  The  Song  of  the  Black- 
smith (p.  225),  having  the  burden  of  "  Which  no  body 
can  deny."  For  fully  sixty  years  men  seemed  never 
weary  of  repeating  it.  We  have  another,  and  much 
more  rare,  Blacksmith  Song  (p.  319) ;  as  well  as  two 
songs  in  ironical  praise  of  "  The  Brewer,"  in  reference 
to  stout  old  Oliver  Cromwell,  whose  family  connection 
with  the  maltster's  trade  was  no  more  forgotten  than 
Hewson's  with  cobbling,  and  Harrison's  with  that  of  a 
butcher  :  which  trades  seemed  congenial  to  them. 

Two  other  gallant  Cavalier  Poets,  William  Cart- 
wright  and  Robert  Herrick,  are  represented  here, 
although  only  by  a  brief  song  from  each,  charming 
lyrists  as  they  were  (pp.  289,  199).  Cartwright  had 
given  brilliant  promise  as  a  dramatist  before  he  gained 

fresh 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXI. 

fresh  fame  as  a  preacher,  and  like  Thomas  Randolph 
died  young.  Still  earlier  voices  are  heard  echoing 
through  our  pages.  A  few  lingering  strains  from  the 
survivor  of  that  literary  brotherhood  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher  (himself,  alas!  prematurely  snatched  away  in 
all  the  ripeness  of  his  manhood),  greet  us  here  (on  pp. 
92,  109,  196).  There  is  an  exuberance  of  mirth  and 
poetry  in  John  Fletcher  that  has  rarely  if  ever  been 
equalled.  In  this  he  takes  after  the  man  whom  he 
loved  to  follow,  and  sometimes  playfully  to  parody, 
William  Shakespeare ;  even  as  John  Phillips  mocked 
the  Miltonic  style  in  his  "  Splendid  Shilling,"  yet  all 
the  while  loved  the  bard  of  Paradise  Lost,  and  took 
him  as  exemplar  in  most  things  that  he  wrote.  Ben 
Jonson,  Thomas  Middleton,  Richard  Brome,  and 
Thomas  Heywood,  dramatic  brethren  all  dead  before 
the  date  of  Merry  Drollery -,  were  not  forgotten  in  it, 
or  left  without  a  verse  from  each  to  keep  their  memory 
green. 

To  "  rare  Ben  Jonson"  is  another  tribute,  however, 
oddly  expressed  by  Dr.  Henry  Edwards  in  the  high- 
flown  praise  of  Sack,  with  all  its  embodied  transfor- 
mations, beginning  "  Fetch  me  Ben  Jonson's  scull,  and 
fill  't  with  Sack  "  (p.  293).  Like  many  another  bard 
of  those  wild  days,  he  cannot  resist  defaming  Ale, 
while  yielding  a  laudation  to  the  Vine.  How  he 
finds  heresie  in  hops,  and  condemns  beer  to  be  given 

to 


xxxii.  INTRODUCTION. 

to  Calvin  and  his  disciples,  is  not  quite  clear.  It  was 
Luther  who,  if  not  misrepresented,  told  a  grievously 
self-tormented  casuist,  beseeching  ghostly  counsel  as  a 
medicine,  to  "  Drink  beer,  and  dance  with  the  girls  ! " 
advice  which,  if  the  brew  were  good  and  lasses  young 
and  pretty,  was  by  no  means  to  be  sniffed  at,  except 
by  the  degenerate  Barebones  sectaries  or  Agnewites. 
By  many  a  roystering  Cavalier  (see  p.  121)  excuse  was 
made  that  he  abhorred  malt  liquor,  from  its  connection 
with  Noll  Crorfcell  and  his  brewery.  A  reveller, 
overcome  by  potations,  mentions  the  Brewer's  Dog  as 
having  bitten  him  (p.  255);  and  another  (p.  348) 
acting  anticipatively  on  homoeopathic  theories,  similia 
similibus  curantur,  recommends  a  hair  of  the  said  dog 
to  be  taken  medicinally  : — 

"  If  any  so  wise  is,  that  Sack  he  despises, 

Let  him  drink  small  beer,  ana  be  sober, 

Whilst  we  drink  Sack  and  sing,  as  if  it  were  Spring, 

He  shall  droop  like  the  trees  in  October. 

But  be  sure  if  over-night  this  dog  do  you  bite, 

You  take  it  henceforth  for  a  warning, 

Soon  as  out  of  your  bed,  to  settle  your  head, 

Take  a  hair  of  his  tail  in  the  morning,"  &c. 

In  one  of  our  songs  we  find  a  Lover  so  addicted  to 
his  cups  that  he  prefers  Sack  to  his  mistress,  and  his 
mistress  gives  him  the  sack  accordingly  (pp.  304,  306) ; 
she  yet  shews  sign  of  a  relenting,  if  he  will  but  quit  his 
bottle  and  be  constant  to  herself.  In  much  later  days, 

we 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxiii. 

we  should  remember,  one  jovial  swain  defended  him- 
self from  a  charge  of  fickleness,  by  pleading  the 
unfailing  smiles  of  the  goblet  he  loved  better  : — 

"  The  Women  all  tell  me  I'm  false  to  my  Lass, 
That  I  quit  my  poor  Chloe,  and  stick  to  my  glass ; 
But  to  you,  Men  of  Reason,  my  reasons  I'll  own, 
And  if  you  don't  like  them,  why  let  them  alone, 

"  Altho'  I  have  left  her,  the  Truth  I'll  declare, 
I  believe  she  was  good,  and  I'm  sure  she  was  fair; 
But  goodness  and  charms  in  a  Bumoer  I  see, 
That  makes  it  as  good  and  as  charging  as  she. 

"  My  Chloe  had  dimples  and  smiles,  I  must  own, 

But  though  she  could  smile,  yet  in  truth  she  could  frown, 

But  tell  me,  ye  Lovers  of  Liquor  divine, 

Did  you  e'er  see  a  frown  in  a  Bumper  of  Wine  ? 

"Her  Lillies  and  Roses  were  just  in  their  prime, 
Yet  Lillies  and  Roses  are  conquer'd  by  Time ; 
But  in  Wine  from  its  age  such  a  Benefit  flows, 
That  we  like  it  the  better,  the  older  it  grows." 

(5  verses  more.) 

"Then  let  my  dear  Chloe  no  longer  complain ; 
She's  rid  of  her  Lover  and  I  of  my  pain  ; 
For  in  Wine,  mighty  wine,  many  comforts  I  spy; 
Should  you  doubt  what  I  say — take  a  Bumper  and  try." 

This,  sung  by  Beard,  before  1754,  or  when  remodelled 
in  our  own  days,  "  They  tell  me  I've  proved  unkind 
to  my  Lass,"  is  as  complete  a  statement  of  the  superior 
advantages  of  the  flask  as  could  be  desired.  In  Merry 
Drollery  there  is  somewhat  too  much  about  Sack. 
But  it  is  not  unimportant,  as  indicating  the  besetting 
d  dangers 


XXXIV.  INTRODUCTION. 

dangers  of  the  Cavaliers.  Their  enemies'  cannon 
balls  had  not  damaged  them  so  much  as  their  friends' 
grape.  Nowadays,  to  our  young  men,  Bitter  Beer  is 
the  peril.  Cassandra  gives  warnings,  but  their  rock- 
ahead  is  the  Bass.  As  Tom  Hood  used  to  say  of  his 
Lieutenant,  "The  rock  he  split  upon  was  quarts." 

Although,  for  reason  such  as  the  above,  Wine  gained 
more  praise  than  Ale,  we  find  that  "  A  Cup  of  Old 
Stingo"  was  recognized  as  being  potent,  and  "  Ale  in 
a  Saxon  Rumkin"  had  its  Laureate,  even  in  those  days 
of  vinous  revelry  (pp.  140,  164,  259).  Chocolate, 
also,  then  coming  into  vogue  for  public  drinking,  as 
soon  as  the  Restoration  gave  license  for  more 
sociality,  has  a  special  song  in  its  honour,  that  we  have 
not  found  elsewhere  (p.  48).  And  the  best  known 
song  of  moralizing  on  Tobacco  is  seen  adorning  our 
volume  (p.  26). 

Although  drinking  and  love-making  were  favourite 
themes  among  the  Cavaliers,  our  English  fondness  for 
field-sports  shows  itself  in  the  brisk  song  of  the 
Angler's  Recreations  (p.  146),  such  as  Izaak  Walton 
and  his  friend  Charles  Cotton  delighted  to  troll 
merrily.  A  Fox  hunt  (pp.  38,  300,  30),  Coursing  the 
Hare  (p.  296),  Cock-fighting  (242),  and  Sir  Eglamore's 
encounter  with  a  stupendous  dragon,  which  carries  off 
his  trusty  sword  for  an  internal  decoration  (257),  as 
also  the  mirthful  account  of  rare  Arthur  O' Bradley 's 
wedding  festivities  (312),  help  to  vary  the  diversions. 

Mirthful 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXV. 

Mirthful  rogues  chant  lustily  their  own  praises,  and  tell 
how  they  impose  upon  the  sober  citizens  (204) :  "  The 
Vagabond"  sings  of  his  numerous  disguises,  as  lame, 
blind,  naked,  maimed,  disbanded,  or  shipwrecked, 
nay,  even  resorting  in  extremity  to  the  likeness  of  an 
honest  hawker,  "Oftimes  to  'scape  the  Beadles." 
Pedlers  and  Gipsies  were  always  musical  in  their  wan- 
derings from  before  the  days  of  that  incorrigible  pilferer 
Autolycus,  whose  lay  contains  so  much  of  sound 
philosophy  : — 

"Jog  on,  jog  on  the  foot-path  way, 

And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a; 
Your  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day ; 

Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a. 

"  Your  paltry  money-bags  of  gold, 
What  need  have  we  to  stare  for? 

When  little  or  nothing  soon  is  told, 
And  we  have  the  less  to  care  for. 

"  Cast  care  away,  let  sorrow  cease, 

A  fig  for  melancholy ! 
Let's  laugh  and  sing,  or,  if  you  please, 

We'll  frolick  with  sweet  Dolly." 

— (Antidote  against  Melancholy.) 

We  are  glad  to  find  Autolycus,  even  at  so  late  a  date 
as  1 66 1,  far  enough  advanced  on  the  path  of  Reform- 
ation to  confine  his  frollics  to  the  companionship 
of  a  Dolly,  whether  sweet  or  otherwise.  His  earlier 
choice  of  his  "aunts,"  when  inclined  to  enjoy  the  hay 
field  (according  to  the  unquestionable  authority  of 

Shakespeare, 


XXXVI.  INTRODUCTION. 

Shakespeare,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  if  not 
earlier)  was  scarcely  to  be  commended.  Our  excellent 
friend  Andrew  Wilson  could  offer  nothing  of  plea  in 
extenuation,  beyond  the  admission  that  Autolycus 
"his  tastes  were  peculiar."  In  another  gay  "  Song  of 
the  Pedlers"  (p.  291),  beginning 

Sf  From  the  fair  La'vinian  shore 
I  your  markets  come  to  store," 

we  are  brought  to  what  has  been  guessed  at  as  a 
possibly  Shakesperian  relic,  certainly  set  to  music  by 
that  Dr.  John  Wilson  who  loved  to  be  associated  with 
the  lyrics  of  "Sweet  Willy."  For  the  Tinker  of 
Turvey  (see  p.  27) ;  for  Gipsies  and  Beggars  (92,  197, 
196,  230),  and  for  praise  of  Sailors,  Soldiers,  and 
Country  ploughmen  (162,  182,  338)  these  pages  need 
not  be  searched  in  vain. 

Less  of  railing  against  Matrimony  meets  us  at  this 
date  than  a  few  years  later,  when  the  Comedies  in 
favour  were  crammed  full  of  jests  against  hood-winked 
or  hen-pecked  citizens,  and  all  the  estimable  gallants 
seemed  to  take  their  motto  from  Rochester,  "Never 
Marry  !"  We  have,  it  may  be  conceded,  a  satirical 
praise  of  the  Bull's  Feather  (p.  264),  or,  in  other 
words,  of  that  matrimonial  horn  which  was  not  absent 
from  the  prognostics  of  Benedict,  who  sagely  remem- 
bered that  no  staff  was  so  reverend  as  one  tipped  with 
it.  The  lamentations  of  an  ill-used  husband  (p.  85), 
who  finds  his  family  newly  increased  after  he  has  been 

seventeen 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXV11. 

seventeen  months  beyond  seas,  may  be  read  with 
varying  emotions.  As  Mephistopheles  mildly  observes, 
"She  is  not  the  first."  One  determined  wife-hater 
(p.  342),  gives  an  almost  exhaustive  list  of  female  can- 
didates whom  "persons  about  to  marry"  are  carefully  to 
avoid.  He  leaves  few  to  choose  from.  The  expenses 
of  matrimony  are  summed  up  alarmingly  to  warn 
Bachelors  (23).  Another  singer  (p.  302)  admits,  with 
an  affectation  of  candour  sitting  easily  on  him, 
that  "Some  wives  are  good,  and  some  are  bad." 
The  manner  in  which  the  chorus  take  up  any  reference 
to  their  individual  help-mates  is  suggestive  of  a  very 
closely-tiled  Lodge  indeed,  and  no  clock-case  admitted 
for  fear  of  accident. 

It  would  be  intolerable  if  we  found  no  love  songs 
here  to  relieve  the  atmosphere.  Gladly  we  turn  to 
Nicholas  Breton's  song  of  1580  (p.  99),  telling  of 
Phillida  and  Coridon's  wooing  "  in  the  merry  month 
of  May."  James  Shirley's  "  Come,  my  Daphne,"  and 
"  A  Rhapsody,"  may  also  be  mentioned  (91,  7);  and 
the  lively  ditty,  "Come,  my  delicate  bonny  sweet 
Betty"  (34).  No  one  but  the  most  rigid  formalist 
need  censure  the  sly  fun  of  the  whimsical  confession 
beginning,  "  I  came  unto  a  Puritan  to  wooe  "  (p.  77) ; 
which  is  perfection  in  its  own  way :  so  dainty  and 
"  pawky"  in  humour  that  we  must  go  to  the  North, 
beyond  the  Border,  to  find  its  equal.  As  Robert 
Browning's  dying  but  only  half-penitent  old  sinner 
admits,  in  his  confessions  : —  "Alas, 


XXXV111.  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Alas, 

We  lov'd,  Sir — used  to  meet : 
How  sad  and  bad  and  mad  it  was — 
But  then,  how  it  was  sweet !  " 

It  is  not  expected  that  this  volume  will  ever  be  seen 
by  any  one  belonging  to  the  gentler  sex  (would  that 
they  were  indeed  all  gentle  !  but  we  have  heard  whispers 
to  the  contrary  ;  let  us  say,  in  other  lands).  Two  or 
three  pages,  here  or  there,  that  need  not  be  specified, 
are  sufficiently  objectionable  to  cause  it  to  be  "  banned 
and  barred,  forbidden  fare."  We  may  as  well  honestly 
declare  our  intense  disgust  at  such  things,  coarse,  ribald, 
and  degraded,  utterly  destitute  of  humour  as  of  excuse. 
Like  King  Lear,  we  need  an  ounce  of  civet  after  compul- 
sorily  fingering  them  "  to  sweeten  our  imagination  !  " 
Students  of  old  literature,  we  are  not  so  ferociously 
proper  as  to  utter  a  war-whoop  against  every  mild 
impropriety.  We  do  not  go  out  of  our  way,  like  some 
folks  of  pseud-anonymity  whom  we  could  mention, 
to  hunt  for  naughty  words  or  double  meanings.  If 
people  will  let  us  go  on  blindly,  deafly,  unregardingly, 
and  not  poke  us  in  the  ribs  with  their  clumsy  fingers 
(as  S.  T.  Coleridge's  neighbour  at  Drury  Lane  did, 
quite  unnecessarily,  regarding  Maturings  "Bertram  "), 
we  shall  remain  none  the  worse,  and  they  will  be  all 
the  better.  But  our  honest  acknowledgment  is,  con- 
cerning some  few  things  in  the  Drollery,  that  if  the 
four  original  editorial  "  Lovers  of  Wit "  had  exercised  a 

more 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXIX. 

more  rigid  censorship,  keeping  out  Sir  John  Denham's 
and  half-a-dozen  other  objectionable  pieces,  the  book 
would  have  been  doubly  welcome  to  nearly  everybody 
two  hundred  years  ago,  and  now.  An  expurgated 
edition  is  wholly  valueless  for  antiquaries  and  historical 
students  :  If  an  editor  tampers  with  his  original  by 
excision,  few  persons  know  where  he  may  stop,  or  can 
rely  upon  his  discretion.  Scissors  are  dangerous  in 
the  hands  of  infants  or  pedants.  Worse  still,  if  he 
leave  out  six  bad  things,  and  in  mere  ignorance  or 
slovenliness  retain  a  seventh,  readers  are  more  shocked 
and  disquieted  than  when  he  tells  them  plainly  that  he 
is  not  answerable  for  such  selection,  but  preserves  the 
text  with  all  its  manifest  corruptions.  He  marks  up 
Cave  Canem,  with  a  hint  of  spring-guns  and  Upas 
trees.  If  anybody  wander  into  quagmires  after  this, 
it  must  be  intentionally. 

One  word  more  :  disagreeable  as  such  flaws  may  be, 
they  are  not  without  historical  value,  as  showing  pre- 
cisely the  plague  spot  and  the  canker-worm  which  ac- 
count for  mortality.  Here,  in  whatever  is  foul,  we  see 
the  cause  of  the  decay  among  the  Cavaliers.  This  book 
was  essentially  an  offspring  of  the  Restoration  year, 
1 660-6 1,  and  it  thus  gives  us  a  genuine  record  of  the 
triumphant  party  of  the  Royalists  in  their  festivity. 
Whatever  is  offensive,  therefore,  is  still  of  historical 
importance.  The  bitterness  of  sarcasm  against  the 
Rump  Parliament,  under  whose  rule  so  many  families 

had 


xl.  INTRODUCTION. 

had  long  groaned;  the  personal  invective,  the  un- 
sparing ridicule  of  leading  Republicans  and  Puritans ; 
were  such  as  not  unnaturally  had  found  favour  during 
the  recent  Civil  Wars  and  usurpation.  The  prepon- 
derance of  songs  in  praise  of  Sack  and  loose  revelry  is 
not  without  significance.  A  few  pieces  of  coarse 
humour,  double  entendre,  and  breaches  of  decorum, 
attest  the  fact  that  already  among  the  Cavaliers  were 
spreading  immorality  and  licentiousness.  The  fault  of 
an  impaired  discipline  had  borne  evil  fruit,  beyond 
defeat  in  the  field  and  banishment  from  positions  of 
power.  Mockery  and  impurity  had  been  welcomed  as 
allies,  during  the  warfare  against  bigotry,  hypocrisy, 
and  selfish  ambition.  We  find,  it  is  true,  few  of  the 
sweeter  graces  of  poetry  in  Choice  Drollery,  1656,  and 
in  Merry  Drollery,  of  1661  ;  less  than  in  the  West- 
minster Drollery  of  1671,  '72  ;  but,  instead,  even  amid 
the  very  faults  and  deficiencies,  much  that  helps  us 
to  a  sounder  understanding  of  the  social,  military,  and 
political  life  of  those  disturbed  times  immediately 
preceding  and  following  the  Restoration. 

J.  W.  E. 

2QTH  MAY,  1875. 


Merry  Drollery, 

Compleat. 


M  E  R  &••¥•: 

DROLLERY 

COMPLEAT. 

OR,   A 

COLLECTION 

f  Jovial  Poems, 
Of  <  Merry  Songs, 
\  Witty  Drolleries, 

Intermixed  with  Pleasant  Catches. 

The  First  Part. 

Collected  by  W.N.  C.B.  R.S.  J.G. 
LOVERS    OF   WIT. 

LONDON 

Printed  for  William  Miller,  at  the  Gilded  Acorn,  in  St. 
Paul's  Church -yard,  where  Gentlemen  and  others  may  be 
furnished  with  most  sorts  of  Acts  of  Parliament,  Kings, 
Lord  Chancellors,  Lord  Keepers,  and  Speakers  Speeches, 
and  other  sorts  of  Speeches,  and  State  Matters ;  as  also 
Books  of  Divinity,  Church -Government,  Humanity,  Ser- 
mons on  most  Occasions,  &c.  1691. 


[5]  3 


TO  THE 


READER 


Courteous  Reader, 

R  do  here  present  thee 
with  a   Choice  Col- 
lection of  Wit  and 
Ingenuity,  many  of 
which  were  obtained  with  much 
lifficulty,  and  at  a  Chargeable 
A  2  Rate  ; 


6  [4]  .To  the  Reader. 


Rate;  It  is  Composed  so  as  to 
please  all  Complexions,  Ages, 
and  Constitutions  of  either  Sexes, 
and  is  now  Completed. 

Farewel. 


Merry 


[7]  5 


Merry  Drollerie. 


A  Rapsody. 

j\0W  I  confess  I  am  in  love, 

Though  I  did  think  I  never  could, 
But  'tis  with  one  dropt  from  above, 
Whose  nature's  made  of  better  mould : 
So  fair,  so  good,  so  all  divine, 
I'd  quit  the  world  to  make  her  mine. 

Have  you  not  seen  the  Stars  retreat          (jrf*. 
When  Sol  salutes  our  Hemisphear, 
So  shrink  the  Beauties,  called  great, 
When  sweet  Rosela  doth  appear  j 
Were  she  as  other  women  are, 
I  should  not  love,  nor  yet  despair. 

But  I  could  never  wear  a  mind 
Willing  to  stoop  to  common  Faces, 
Nor  confidence  enough  can  find 
To  aim  at  one  so  full  of  Graces  ; 
Fortune  and  Nature  did  agree, 
No  woman  should  be  wed  by  me. 

A  3  Mirth 


6  [8]  Merry  Drollerie, 


Mirth  in  Sorrow. 

BE  merry  with  Sorrow  :  why  are  you  so  sad ? 
Let  some  mirth  be  found  to  make  your  heart 
If  troubles  afflict  thee,  lament  not  therefore ;     (glad  : 
For  all  men  are  subject  to  sorrows  full  sore. 

Though  grief  be  to  night,  yet  joy  comes  to  morrow, 
And  therefore,  I  pray  you,  be  merry  with  sorrow. 

With  what  grief  soever  a  man  be  afflicted, 
Unto  over-much  sorrow  be  not  thou  addicted, 
For  a  sorrowful  heart,  the  wise-man  doth  say, 
Doth  dry  up  the  bones,  and  the  body  decay ; 
And  therefore  I  say,  both  evening  and  morrow, 
In  all  thy  afflictions  be  merry  with  sorrow. 

Hast  thou  been  a  rich  man,  and  now  art  thou  poor  ? 
Be  merry  with  sorrow,  and  pass  not  therefore ; 
For  riches  have  wings  to  fly  when  they  lust, 
Both  to  thee,  and  from  thee,  as  God  hath  discust  \ 
And  therefore  I  say,  &c. 

Art  thou  pinched  with  poverty,  sickness,  or  need  ? 
Be  merry  with  sorrow,  the  better  to  speed  : 
For  God  is  the  God  of  the  poor  and  oppressed, 
Commit  thy  cause  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  redressed  ; 
And  therefore  I  say,  &c. 

Art 


Complete,  [9]  7 

Art  thou  close  in  Prison,  and  locked  up  fast  ? 
Whatsoever  thy  faults  be,  a  God  still  thou  hast : 
Believe,  serve,  and  fear  him,  thou  shalt  never  lack, 
If  thou  wilt  cast  thy  cares  on  his  back ; 
And  therefore  I  say,  &c. 

Art  thou  a  Minister  the  people  to  teach, 
And  dost  thou  study  good  words  for  to  Preach, 
And  for  thy  labour  dost  thou  sustain  blame  ? 
Be  merry  with  sorrow,  and  shrink  not  for  shame  ; 
Such  persons,  I  say,  both  evening  and  morrow, 
Ought  still  to  rejoyce,  and  be  merry  with  sorrow. 

Hast  thou  enemies  abroad,  that  seek  for  thy  life, 
Or  hast  thou  at  home,  a  shrew  to  thy  wife  ? 
Such  sorrows,  indeed,  doth  a  number  molest, 
Those  that  be  cumbred  can  tell  their  tale  best, 
For  they  do  sustain  many  a  sowre  good-morrow, 
But  yet  I  could  wish  them  to  be  merry  with  sorrow. 

God  make  us  all  merry  in  Christ  our  Redeemer  ; 
God  save  merry  England  &  our  Good  King  for  ever, 
God  grant  him  long  years,  and  many  to  raign 
His  word  and  his  Gospel  now  still  to  maintain : 
And  those  that  do  seek  to  procure  his  sorrow,  (row, 
God  send  them  short  lives,  not  to  live  till  to  mor- 


A4 


8  [io]  Merry  Drollerie, 


A   Catch. 

AMarillis  told  her  swain, 
Amarillis  told  her  swain, 
That  in  love  he  should  be  plain, 
And  not  think  to  deceive  her, 

Still  he  protested  on  his  truth, 
That  he  would  never  leave  her. 

If  thou  dost  keep  thy  vow  quoth  shee, 
If  thou  dost  keep  thy  vow  quoth  shee, 
And  that  now  ne'er  dost  leave  me, 
There's  never  a  swain  in  all  this  Plain, 
That  ever  shall  come  near  thee, 

For  Garlands  and  Embroidered  Scrips, 

For  I  do  love  thee  dearly. 

But  Colin  if  thou  change  thy  love, 
But  Colin  if  thou  change  thy  love, 
A  Tigris  then  lie  to  the[e]  prove, 
If  ere  thou  dost  come  near  me ; 

Amarillis  fear  not  that, 

For  I  do  love  thee  dearly. 


The 


Complete.  [11]  9 


The  Hectors  and  the  Vintner. 

CA11  for  the  Master,  O  !  this  is  fine,  (wine 

For  you  that  have  London's  brave  Liquors  of 
For  us  the  Cocks  of  the  Hectors         [:] 
Wine  wherein  Flies  were  drown'd  the  last  Summer ; 
Hang't  let  it  pass,  here's  a  Glass  in  a  Rummer, 
Hang't  let  it,  &c. 

Bold  Hectors  we  are  of  London,  New  Troy, 
Fill  us  more  wine  :  Hark  here,  Sirrah  Boy, 
Speak  in  the  Dolphin,  speak  in  the  Swan, 
Drawer  Anon  Sir,  Anon. 
Ralph,  George,  speak  in  the  Star, 

The  Reckoning's  unpaid  ;  we'l  pay  at  the  Bar, 

The  Reckoning's  unpaid,  6^. 

A  Quart  of  Clarret  in  the  Mytre  score  : 
The  Hectors  are  Ranting,  Tom,  shut  the  door ; 
A  Skirmish  begins,  beware  pates  and  shins, 
The  Piss-pots  are  down,  the  candles  are  out, 
The  Glasses  are  broken  and  the  pots  flies  about. 
Ralph,  Ralph,  speak  in  the  Chequer.     By  and  by, 
Robin  is  wounded,  and  the  Hectors  do  flie, 
Call  for  the  Constable,  let  in  the  Watch,       (match, 

The  Hectors  of  Holborn  shall  meet  with  their 

The  Hectors,  &c. 

At 


io  [12]  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

At  Midnight  you  bring  your  justice  among  us, 
But  all  the  day  long  you  do  us  the  wrong ; 
When  for  Verrinus  you  bring  us  Mundungus  : 
Your  reckonings  are  large,  your  Bottles  are  small, 
Still  changing  our  wine,  as  fast  as  wee  call ; 
Your  Canary  has  Lime  in't,  your  Clarret  has  Stum, 

Tell  the  Constable  this,  and  then  let  him  come, 

Tell  the  Constable,  &c. 

The  Jovial  Lover. 
i. 

ONce  was  I  sad,  till  I  grew  to  be  mad, 
But  I'll  never  be  sad  again  boys  ; 
I  courted  a  riddle,  she  fancied  a  fiddle, 
The  tune  does  run  still  in  my  brain  boys. 

2. 

The  Gittarn  and  the  Lute,  the  Pipe  and  the  Flute 
Are  the  new  Alamode  for  the  nan-boys  ; 
With  Pistol  and  Dagger  the  women  out-swagger 
The  blades  with  the  Muff  and  the  Fan  boys. 

3 
All  the  Town  is  run  mad,  and  the  Hectors  do  pad, 

Besides  their  false  Dice  and  slur  boys  : 

The  new-formed  Cheats  with  their  acts  and  debates 

Have  brought  the  old  to  a  demur  boys. 

4- 
Men  stand  upon  thorns  to  pull  out  their  horns, 

And  to  cuckold  themselves  in  grain  boys  ; 

When 


Complete.  [13]  11 

When  to  wear  'urn  before,  does  make  their  heads 
But  behind  they  do  suffer  no  pain  boys.  (sore, 

5 
The  Protestant,  Presbyter,  Papist,  and  Prester  John, 

Are  much  discontented  wee  see  boys  : 

For  all  their  Religion  no  Mahomets  Pidgeon 

Can  make  'um  be  madder  then  we  boys. 

6. 

There  is  a  mad  fellow  clad  alwaies  in  yellow ; 
And  somewhat  his  nose  is  blew  boys ; 
He  cheated  the  divel,  which  was  very  evil 
To  him,  and  to  all  of  his  crew  boys. 

7- 
But  now  he  intends  to  make  even  amends 

By  wearing  a  crown  of  thorns  boys ; 

For  him  that  is  gone,  but  before  it  be  one 

We  shall  his  humility  scorn  boys. 

8. 

For  all  our  new  Peers  are  turn'd  out  with  jeers, 
The  new  Gentlemen  Lords  are  trapan'd  boyes ; 
Since  the  King,  &  no  King,  would  pretend  to  a  thing, 
Which  the  Commons  won't  understand  boyes. 

9 

And  whilst  we  are  thus  mad,  my  Princess  is  glad 

To  laugh  at  the  World,  and  at  me  boyes, 

'Cause  I  can't  apprehend  what  her  colour  command, 

But  it  is  not  my  self  you  see  boyes. 

Mar  dike. 


12  [14]  Merry  Drollerie, 


Mardike. 

WHen  first  Mardike  was  made  a  Prey, 
'Twas    Canrea  carried  the  Fort  away, 
And  do  not  lose  your  Valorous  Prize 
By  staring  in  your  Mistris  eyes, 
But  put  off  your  Petticoat-Parley, 
Fame  and  Honour  are  covered  early ; 

Potting  and  sotting, 

And  laughing,  and  quaffing  of  Canary 
Will  make  good  souldiers  miscarry, 
And  ne'er  travel  for  a  true  renown ; 
And  turn  to  your  marshall  Mistris, 
Fair  Minerva  the  souldiers  sister  is ; 

Calling,  and  falling,  and  cutting, 

And  slashing  of  wounds  Sir, 
With  turning,  and  burning,  of  Towns,  are 
High  steps  unto  a  Statesmans  throne. 

Let  bold  Bellona's  Brewer  frown, 
And  his  Tun  shall  o'er  flow  the  Town  ; 
Or  give  a  Cobler  sword  and  State, 
And  a  Tinker  shall  trapan  the  State, 
Such  fortunate  Foes  as  these  be 
Turned  the  Crown  to  a  Cross  at  Naseby  • 

Father  and  Mother,  and  Sister 

And  Brother  confounded, 

With 


Complete.  [15]   13 

With  many  good  families  wounded 

By  a  terrible  turn  of  State  ; 

Such  plentiful  power  the  sword  has, 

And  so  little  of  late  the  word  has  ; 
He  that  can  kill  a  man, 
Thunder,  and  plunder  precisely ; 

It's  he  is  the  man  that  does  wisely, 

And  may  climbe  to  a  Chair  of  State. 

It  is  the  sword  that  doth  order  all, 
Makes  Peasants  rise,  and  Princes  fall ; 
All  Syllogisms  in  vain  are  spilt  [,] 

No  Logick  like  a  basket  hilt : 
It  handles  'urn  joint  by  joint  Sir, 
And  doth  nimbly  come  to  the  point  Sir, 

Thrilling,  and  drilling, 

And  killing,  and  spilling  profoundly, 
Untill  the  despiter  on  ground  lye, 
And  hath  ne'er  a  word  to  say, 
Unless  it  be  Quarter,  Quarter ; 
Truth  confuted  by  a  Carter, 

Whipping,  and  stripping, 

And  ripping,  and  stripping  Evasions 
Doth  conquer  the  power  of  perswasions, 
Aristotle  has  lost  the  day. 

The  Gown  and  Chain  cannot  compare 
With  Red-coat  and  his  Bandeliers 

The  Musquets  gave  Saint  Pauls  the  lurch, 

And 


14  [16]  Merry  Drollerie, 

And  beat  the  canons  from  the  Church, 
The  pious  Episcopal  Gown  too  ; 

Taro,  Tantaro,  Tantaro, 

Tantaro,  the  trumpet 
Hath  blown  away  Babylons  strumpet, 
And  Cathedrals  begin  to  truck, 
Your  Councellors  are  struck  dumb  too ; 

Dub  a  dub,  dub  a  dub, 

Dub  a  dub  dub,  an  alarum, 
Each  Corporal  now  can  out-dare  'urn, 
Learned  Littleton  now  goes  to  rack. 

Then  since  the  Sword  so  bright  doth  shine 
Let's  leave  our  Wenches  and  our  Wine  ; 
We'll  follow  Fate  where  ere  she  runs, 
And  turn  our  pots  and  pipes  to  guns  : 
The  bottles  shall  be  Grenadoes, 
We  will  march  about  like  bravadoes, 

Huffing,  and  Puffing, 

And  snuffing  and  calling  the  Spaniard, 
Whose  brows  have  been  dyed  in  a  tann-yard : 
Well-got  fame  is  a  Warriors  wife, 
The  Drawer  shall  be  a  Drummer, 
We'll  be  Generals  all  next  summer, 

Pointing,  and  jointing, 

And  hilting  and  tilting  like  brave  boys ; 
We  shall  have  gold  or  a  grave  boys, 

There's  an  end  of  a  Souldiers  life. 

A 


Complete.  17 


A  merry  Song. 

OF  all  the  Crafts  that  I  do  know, 
That  in  the  Earth  may  be, 
Threshing  is  one  of  the  weariest  trades 
That  belong  to  husbandry. 

Upon  a  time  there  was  a  poor  man, 
I  swear  by  sweet  Saint  Ann, 
And  he  had  a  wife  and  seven  children, 
And  other  goods  had  he  none. 

As  he  was  a  walking  on  the  way, 

Hard  by  a  Forrest  side, 

There  met  him  the  divel,  that  Grisly  Ghost, 

This  poor  man  to  abide. 

All  hail,  all  hail,  then  quoth  the  divel, 
I  am  glad  to  have  met  with  thee ; 
What  is  thy  business  in  this  Country 
Thou  goest  so  hastily  ? 

(man, 

I  have  a  wife,  and  seven  children,  quoth  the  poor 
And  other  goods  have  I  none, 
And  I  am  to  the  Market  going 
To  fetch  them  something  home. 

B  Wilt 


1 8  Merry  Drollerie, 

Wilt  them  be  my  servant,  quoth  the  divel, 
And  serve  me  for  seven  year, 
And  thou  shalt  have  cattel  and  corn  enough, 
And  all  things  at  thy  desire. 

What  shall  be  my  office,  quoth  the  poor  man  ? 
I  am  loth  to  bear  any  blame ; 
Thou  shalt  bring  a  beast  unto  this  Forrest, 
That  I  cannot  tell  his  name. 

If  thou  dost  not  bring  me  such  a  beast, 
The  name  that  I  cannot  tell, 
Then  both  thy  body  and  thy  soul 
Shall  go  with  me  to  hell. 

Indentures  and  Covenants  were  made  anon, 
And  sealed  by  and  by ; 
The  poor  man  he  to  the  market  went 
So  fast  as  he  could  high. 

And  when  that  he  came  home  again, 

Corn  and  Cattel  he  had  anon  : 

O  this  was  some  Lord,  then  quoth  the  Poor  man, 

For  to  believe  upon. 

His  neighbours  dwelling  round  about, 
They  marvelled  very  much  : 
They  thought  he  had  either  robb'd  or  stole, 
He  was  become  so  rich. 

But 


Complete.  19 

But  when  the  seven  years  was  near  expir'd, 
And  almost  at  an  end, 
He  made  his  moan  unto  his  wife 
Which  was  his  own  dear  freind. 

What  aile  you,  what  aile  you,  husband,  quoth  she, 
What  ailes  you  so  sad  to  be  ? 
You  had  wont  to  be  one  of  the  merriest  men 
In  all  the  whole  Country. 

I  have  made  a  bargain,  quoth  the  poor  man, 
I  am  loth  to  bear  the  blame  : 
I  must  carry  the  divel  a  beast  to  the  Forrest 
That  he  cannot  tell  his  name. 

If  I  don't  carry  him  such  a  beast, 
The  name  that  he  cannot  tell, 
Then  both  my  body  and  my  soul 
Must  go  with  him  to  hell. 

Lie  still,  lie  still  then,  quoth  the  good  Wife, 

Lie  still  and  sleep  a  while, 

And  I  will  bethink  me  of  a  thing, 

We  will  the  devil  beguil. 

Buy  Feathers  and  Lime,  then  quoth  the  good  wife, 
Such  as  men  catch  birds  in, 
And  I  will  put  off  all  my  cloaths, 
And  roul  them  over  my  skin         [.] 

B2  He 


2O  Merry  Drollerie, 

He  wrapt  his  wife  in  Feathers  and  Lime, 
Till  no  place  of  her  was  bare, 
He  tied  a  string  about  her  hams, 
And  led  her  for  chapmens  ware. 

He  led  her  backwards  of  all  four, 
Till  he  came  to  the  Forrest  side, 
There  met  he  the  divel,  that  grisly  Ghost, 
This  poor  man  to  abide, 

(man, 

I  have  brought  thee  the  beast,  then  quoth  the  poor 
Thy  bargain  thou  canst  not  forsake  : 
The  devil  stood  as  still  as  any  stone, 
And  his  heart  began  to  quake. 

What  beast  hast  thou  brought  me,  quoth  the  divel, 
His  cheeks  they  are  so  round  ? 
I  thought  there  had  not  been  any  such  beast 
Brought  up  in  all  this  ground. 

I  have  looked  East,  I  have  looked  West, 
I  have  looked  over  Lincoln  and  Lyn> 
But  of  all  the  beasts  that  ever  I  saw 
I  never  saw  one  so  grim. 

Where  is  the  mouth  of  this  same  beast  ? 
His  breath  is  wondrous  strong. 
A  little  below,  quoth  the  poor  man, 
His  mouth  stands  all  along. 

That 


Complete.  2 1 

That  is  a  mad  mouth,  then  quoth  the  divel, 
It  has  neither  cheeks  nor  chin, 
Nay  has  but  one  eye  in  his  head, 
And  his  sight  is  wondrous  dim. 

If  his  mouth  had  stood  but  overthwart, 
As  it  stands  all  a-length, 
I  would  have  thought  it  some  Whale  fish 
Was  taken  by  some  mans  strength. 

How  many  more  hast  thou,  quoth  the  divel, 
How  many  more  of  this  kind  ? 
I  have  seven  more,  then  quoth  the  poor  man, 
But  I  left  them  all  behind. 

If  thou  hast  seven  more  of  these  beasts, 
The  truth  to  thee  I  tell, 
Thou  hast  beasts  enough  to  scare  both  me, 
And  all  the  devils  in  hell. 

Here  take  thy  Indentures  and  Covenants  too, 
I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  thee, 
The  poor  man  he  went  home  with  his  wife, 
And  they  lived  full  merrily. 


B  3  On 


22  Merry  Dr oiler  ie. 


On  Drinking,  out  of  Anacrion. 

THe  thirsty  Earth  drinks  up  the  Rain, 
And  drinks,  and  gapes  for  drink  again; 
The  Plants  suck  in  the  Earth,  and  are 
With  constant  drinking  fresh  and  fair. 
The  sea  it  self,  (which  one  would  think 
Should  have  but  little  need  to  drink,) 
Drinks  ten  thousand  Rivers  up, 
So  fill'd  that  they  o'reflow  the  cup. 
The  busie  Sun,  as  one  would  guess 
By's  drunken  fiery  face,  no  less 
Drinks  up  the  sea,  and  when  that's  done, 
The  Moon  and  Stars  drinks  up  the  Sun. 
They  drink,  and  dance  by  their  own  light, 
They  drink  and  Revel  all  the  night ; 
Nothing  in  Nature's  sober  found 
But  an  eternall  health  goes  round  : 
Fill  up  the  boale,  and  fill  it  high, 
Fill  all  the  glasses  here  :  for  why 
Should  every  creature  drink  but  I  ? 
Thou  man  of  moralls,  tell  me  why. 

The 


Complete.  23 


The  Married  Estate,   or  Advice  to 

Batchelors  and  Maids.  -^*1 

i  ^J*^r 

O  freind  and  to  foe 


T 


To  all  that  I  know 
That  to  marriage  estate  do  prepare ; 

Remember  your  days 

In  severall  ways 
Are  troubled  with  sorrow  and  care  : 

For  he  that  doth  look 

In  the  married  mans  book, 
And  read  but  his  Items  all  over, 

Shall  find  them  to  come 

At  length  to  a  sum 
Shall  empty  Purse,  Pocket,  and  Coffer : 

In  the  pastimes  of  love, 

When  their  labours  do  prove, 
And  the  Fruit  beginneth  to  kick, 

For  this,  and  for  that, 

And  I  know  not  for  what, 
The  woman  must  have,  or  be  sick. 

There's  Item  set  down, 

For  a  loose-bodied  Gown, 
In  her  longing,  you  must  not  deceive  her ; 

For  a  Bodkin,  a  Ring, 

Or  the  other  fine  thing, 

B  4  For 


24  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  a  Whisk,  a  scarf,  or  a  Beaver,          [.] 

Deliver'd  and  well, 

Who  is't  cannot  tell, 
Thus  while  the  Childe  lies  at  the  Nipple, 

There's  Item  for  wine, 

And  Gossips  so  fine, 
And  Sugar  to  sweeten  their  Tipple  : 

There's  Item  I  hope, 

For  water  and  sope, 
There's  Item  for  Fire  and  Candle, 

For  better  for  worse, 

There's  Item  for  Nurse, 
The  Babe  to  dress  and  to  dandle. 

When  swadled  in  lap, 

There's  Item  for  Pap, 
And  Item  for  Pot,  Pan,  and  Ladle ; 

A  Corral  with  Bells, 

Which  custom  compells, 
And  Item  ten  Groats  for  a  Cradle  ; 

With  twenty  odd  knacks, 

Which  the  little  one  lacks, 
And  thus  doth  thy  pleasure  bewray  thee  : 

But  this  is  the  sport, 

In  Country  and  Court, 
Then  let  not  these  pastimes  betray  thee. 


The 


Complete.  25 


The  Fashions. 

THe  Turk  in  Linnen  wraps  his  head, 
The  Persian  he's  in  Lawn  too ; 
The  Rush  with  sable  furs  his  Cap, 
And  change  will  not  be  drawn  to ; 
The  Spaniard  constant  to  his  block, 
The  French  inconstant  ever, 
But  of  all  the  Felts  that  may  be  felt 
Give  me  the  English  Beaver. 

The  German  loves  the  Cony-Wool, 

The  Irish  man  his  shag  too ; 

Some  love  the  rough,  and  some  the  smooth ;         [delete.] 

The  Welsh  his  Monmouth  use  to  Wear 

And  of  the  same  will  brag  too ; 

Some  loves  the  rough,  and  some  the  smooth, 

Some  great  and  others  small  things : 

But  O  the  liquorish  English  man 

He  loves  to  deal  in  all  things. 

The  Rush  drinks  quass,  Dutch  Rubrick  beer, 

And  that  is  strong  and  mighty ; 

The  Brittain  he  Metheglin  quaffs, 

The  Irish  Aqua  Vitcz  ; 

The  French  affects  the  Orlian  Grape, 

The  Spaniard  takes  his  Sherry, 

The 


26  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

The  English  none  of  these  can  shape,  ['scape] 
But  with  them  all  make  merry. 

The  Italian  in  his  High  Chippin,  [ner] 

Scotch  Lass,  and  comely  Fro  too ; 

The  Spanish  Don  a  French  Maddam  [Donna,] 

He  will  not  fear  to  go  to  ; 

Nothing  so  full  of  hazard,  dread, 

Nought  lives  above  the  Center : 

No  health,  no  fashion,  wine,  nor  wench 

Your  English  dare  not  venter. 


On  Tobacco. 

TObacco  that  is  withered  quite 
Grown  in  the  morning,  cut  down  at  night, 
Shews  thy  decay, 
All  flesh  is  hay  ; 
Thus  think,  then  drink  Tobacco. 

And  when  the  smoak  ascends  on  high, 
Think  all  thou  seest  is  Vanity 

Of  earthly  stuff, 

Blown  with  a  puff; 
Thus  think,  then  drink  Tobacco. 

And  when  the  Pipes  be  fouPd  within, 
Behold  the  soul  defiFd  with  sin, 

To 


Complete.  27 


To  Purge  with  fire 
He  doth  require ; 
Thus  think,  then  drink  Tobacco. 

As  for  the  ashes  left  behind, 
They  fitly  serve  to  put 's  in  mind, 
That  unto  dust 
Return  we  must ; 
Thus  think,  then  drink  Tobacco. 


The  Tinker  of  Turvey. 

THere  was  a  Jovial  Tinker 
Dwelt  in  the  Town  of  Turvey, 
And  he  could  patch  a  Kettle  well, 
Though  his  humours  were  but  scurvy  ; 

Still  would  he  sing,  tarra  ring,  tarra  ring  Tinke, 

Room  for  a  Jovial  Tinker, 

He'll  stop  one  hole  and  make  two, 

Is  not  this  a  Jovial  Tinker  ? 

He  was  as  good  a  fellow 
As  Smug,  which  mov'd  much  laughter ; 
You'd  hardly  think  how  in  his  drink, 
He  would  beat  his  wife  and  daughter ; 
Still  would  he  sing,  6% 

He 


28  Merry  Drollerie, 

He  walks  about  the  Country, 
With  Pike-staff,  and  with  Butchet, 
Drunk  as  a  Rat,  you'd  hardly  wot 
That  drinking  so  he  could  trudge  it  ; 
Still  would  he  sing,  &>c. 

There's  none  of  his  profession, 
That  hath  such  skill  in  mettle, 
For  he  could  mend  the  frying-pan, 
The  Skillet  or  the  Kettle ; 
Still  would  he  sing,  &c. 

To  toss  the  Jolly  tankard, 
The  black  pot  and  the  pitcher, 
No  Ale  or  beer  to  him  was  dear, 
To  make  his  nose  the  richer, 
Still  would  he,  &>c. 

He'd  tink  betime  i'  th'  morning 
Before  the  break  of  day, 
For  drinking  dry  he  was  willing, 
To  the  Ale-house  he  went  his  way  ; 
Still  would  he,  &c. 

He  knockt  so  roundly  at  the  door, 

Which  made  them  all  to  waken  : 

Who's  there,  quoth  the  maid  ?     It's  I,  he  said ; 

It's  the  Tinker  foul,  I'll  take  him  ; 

Still  would  he  sing,  tarra  ring,  tarra  ring  Tinke, 

Room 


Complete.  29 


Room  for  a  Jovial  Tinker, 

He'll  stop  one  hole,  and  make  two, 

Is  not  this  a  Jovial  Tinker  ? 


Nonsence. 

NOw  Gentlemen,  if  you  will  hear 
Strange  news,  as  I  shall  tell  you, 
Where  ere  you  go,  both  far  and  near, 
You  may  boldly  say  'tis  true. 

When  Charing  CTQSS  was  a  little  boy, 
He  was  sent  to  Rumford  to  buy  swine ; 
His  mother  made  cheese,  he  drank  the  whay, 
He  never  lov'd  strong  beer,  Ale,  nor  wine. 

When  all  the  things  in  England  died,          [?  Kings] 
That  very  year  fell  such  a  chance, 
That  Salisbury  plain  would  on  horseback  ride, 
And  Paris  Garden  carry  the  news  to  France. 

When  all  the  Laywers  they  did  Plead        [Lawyers] 

All  for  love,  and  nought  for  gain ; 

Then  'twas  a  Joyful  world  indeed  ; 

The  blew  bore  of  Dover  fetcht  apples  out  of  Spain. 

When  Landlords  let  their  farms  cheap, 
Because  their  tenant  paid  so  dear  • 

The 


I  lu-  m.m  in  thr   Moon  nude  ('////»/ 

Ami  bid  the  seven  slurs  to  eat  good  eheur, 

NYithont  a  UtoU't  or  Com  rati-liei 

/'.;/.. \  Chun  h  N.iul  \\.i-.  m-vei    luv  , 

Thou  was  my  l.oid  Mayor  a  house  tlutrhei, 

Wlurh  was  a  wondious  si^ht  lo  sc-e 

dul  MMIII  on  !hr  Thanh-.. 
And  sworoall  ihioves  to  l>i*  just  and  line  , 
The  SUUUUMS  ,iuil  Uavhlls  VN*'I^V  honesl  nu  n. 
\u.l  IVase  -nul   l».ii  on  ih.il  \  eai  it  sne» 

\\hrn  r\v'i\    tuau  had  .<  'jnuM    \\iU\ 
I'h.n   t\v'\  v'i   »  ouU  oni  v-  ••»  »»Kl  o!    i  huk- 

1  ink  ri    i  M  •  .  .  i  ,  1 » >  VMU  1  .ill  '.t  i  ilv\ 

Uo  ;  -led  .1    Ti;1.  in  .1  Niu-  (  'ows  huU- 


T 


M  le  I  hint  i  -  up. 

I'lu-  lunU   r-  up. 
And  now   \(  is  almost  day. 
Aiul  lu*  th.u's  ,»lu*il  \\ith  .\uotluM   m.m  •.  w 
I  ('•«  tuur  (o  jyt   him  ,u\  ,i\ 

AH 


;  i 


.'///    M    .S'«'///,//rV     <>/    tit 

S     XI'    Mil   old   SollldlCI    ol    Ilir    H .. 

\     /     \\'ilh  MII  old  moll. ^    .  0,1     Mild  ..   n ....in.  .M    no..  . 
And  MII  old    |.  1 1  in  lliil,  oiil  M!  llx    dhows, 

And  MII  old  cm  ol  liooi  .    di.ivvn  on  \\iMn.iii  ho.. 

.lull    \\ilh    Mj'jy.   nr.lr.nl   o|    |o, 

And  MII  old  Sotildin  ol  Mi.    MM,  .  M 
And  UK-  MM.  .  n    ..Id  Sonldici 

\\'iih  .in  old  nr.ly  swoid  Mi.il   .  h.n  I  I   wiih  Now., 

And   Mil   old   d. );•;'<   I    lo   M  .n.     .iw.iy    |hr    <  low.. 
\nd   Mil  old   hol:x-    Mi.il    n  ,  I  .  .1  .   IK     ;•.. 

And  .in  <  *ld    ,.i<  I.  II.    i  h.ii   n.  >  in. in  I  n.  > 

And  MII  old  Soiildn  i   <>l  Mi.    <  >H.  .  M 
And  M..    (  >u.  ,  n  ,  old  :  .oiildici 

\Vilh   In  .  old   u. I  .   in    l'.r-hl\     I-. it-lil  , 

\\dll.   h    hr    I.  .  ov.   I'd.    ..I      /..,.,'  i     hj-Jll 

Will)    .III    old     T.l  ,|M.|  |    lh.il     ni'Vi    I     WMS    M  .id, 

TIlMl    in    hr.  old    llMvds  '.I I    h n   ;•«  .il    '.I.  .id    , 

And  MII  old  '  ...ill, ih  i  ol  Mi.    <  hi.  .  n 
\nd  ill.   MM.  .  n.  old  :  ...nidi,  i 

\\  ill.  hr.  old  (  .UN,  Mild  hr.   H.inddirr., 

And   Mil   old    h<  .id   |ih  .  .     lo    I  ,  <  |)   \\.IMM    hr.   <  .11 

Willi  .in   old     .hit  I    r.  j-iouii   lo   vvi.i.  I 

With 


32  Merry  Drollerie, 

With  a  huge  Louse,  With  a  great  list  on  his  back, 
Is  able  to  carry  a  Pedler  and  his  Pack  ; 

And  an  old  souldier  of  the  Queens, 

And  the  Queens  old  souldier. 

With  an  old  Quean  to  lie  by  his  side, 

That  in  old  time  had  been  pockifi'd  ; 

He's  now  rid  to  Bohemia  to  fight  with  his  foes, 

And  he  swears  by  his  Valour  he'll  have  better  cloaths, 

Or  else  he'll  lose  legs,  arms,  fingers,  and  toes, 

And  he'll  come  again,  when  no  man  knows, 

And  an  old  souldier  of  the  Queens, 

And  the  Queen's  old  souldier. 


•*^Lj         Advice  to  Bachelours 

IF  thou  wilt  know  how  to  chuse  a  shrew, 
Come  listen  unto  me, 

I'll  tell  you  the  signs,  and  the  very  very  lines 
Of  Loves  Physiognomy. 

If  her  hair  be  brown,  with  a  flaxen  crown, 

And  grac'd  with  a  nutmeg  hue, 
Both  day  and  night,  she's  best  for  delight, 

And  her  colour  everlasting  true. 

If  her  forehead  be  high,  with  a  rolling  eye, 
And  lips  that  will  sweetly  melt  : 

The 


Complete.  3  3 

The  thing  below  is  better  you  know, 
Although  it  be  oftner  felt. 

If  her  hair  be  red,  she'll  sport  in  the  bed, 
But  take  heed  of  the  danger  though  : 

For  if  she  carry  fire  in  her  upper  attire, 
What  a  divel  doth  she  carry  below  ? 

If  her  hair  be  yellow,  she'll  tempt  each  fellow  ; 

In  the  Immanuel  Colledge  : 
For  she  that  doth  follow  the  colour  of  Apollo, 

May  be  like  him  in  zeal  and  knowledge. 

If  she  be  pale,  and  a  Virgin  stale, 

Inclin'd  to  the  sickness  green  : 
Some  raw  fruit  give  her,  to  open  her  liver, 

Her  stomack,  and  the  thing  between. 

If  her  Nose  be  long,  and  sharp  as  her  Tongue, 

Take  heed  of  a  desperate  maid  : 
For  she  that  will  swagger  with  an  incurable  dagger 

With  stab  and  a  kissing  betray'd. 

If  her  face  and  her  neck  have  here  and  there  a  speck, 
Ne'er  stick,  but  straight  you  go  stride  her : 

For  it  hath  been  try'd  and  never  denied, 
Such  flesh  ne'er  fails  the  Rider. 

c  If 


34  Merry  Drollerie, 

If  none  of  these  thy  fancy  will  please, 

Go  seek  thy  complexion  store, 
And  take  for  thy  saint  a  Lady  that  will  paint, 

Such  beauties  thou  maist  adore. 

If  beauty  do  write  in  her  face  red  and  white, 
And  Cupid  his  flowers  there  breed, 

It  Pleaseth  the  eye,  but  the  rose  will  dye, 
As  soon  as  it  runs  to  seed. 


Fond  Love. 

COme  my  delicate  bonny  sweet  Betty, 
Let's  dally  a  while  in  the  shade, 
Where  the  Sun  by  degrees  shines  through  the  trees, 
And  the  wind  blows  through  the  Glade ; 
Where  Telons  her  Lover  is  graced,  [Tellus  ?] 

And  richly  adorned  with  green, 
And  the  amorous  boy  with  her  mother  did  toy, 
And  the  Uncan  never  was  seen ; 
There  we  may  enjoy  modest  pleasure, 
As  kissing  and  merry  discourse, 
And  never  controul  a  modest  sweet  soul, 
For  love  is  a  thing  of  great  force. 

The  green  grass  shall  be  thy  Pillow 

To  comfort  thy  spherical  head, 

And  my  arms  shall  enjoin  my  love  so  divine, 

And 


Complete.  3  5 

And  the  earth  shall  be  thy  bed ; 

Thy  mantle  of  fairest  flowers, 

My  coat  shall  thy  coverlet  be, 

And  the  whistling  wind  shall  sing  to  our  mind, 

O  dainty  sweet  Lullaby. 

Old  Eolus  shall  be  thy  Rocker, 

With  his  gentle  murmuring  noise, 

And  loves  mirtle  tree  shall  thy  Canopy  be  ; 

And  the  birds  harmonious  voice 

Shall  bring  us  into  a  sweet  slumber, 

While  I  in  thy  bosome  do  rest, 

And  give  thee  such  bliss  by  that,  and  by 

As  by  poetry  can't  be  exprest. 

While  thy  cherry  cheek  pleaseth  in  touching, 

And  in  smelling  her  oderous  breath ; 

Her  beauty  in  my  sight,  and  her  voice  my  delight, 

Oh  my  sweets  are  cast  beneath ; 

Thus  ravished  with  the  contentment 

In  more  than  a  lover  exprest, 

And  think  when  I  am  here,  I  am  in  a  sphear, 

And  more  than  immortally  blest. 

And  thus  with  my  mutual  coying 

My  love  doth  me  sweetly  embrace  ; 

With  my  hands  in  her  hair,  and  her  fingers  so  rare, 

And  her  playing  with  my  face, 

We  reapt  the  most  happy  contentment 

c  2  That 


36  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

That  ever  two  Lovers  did  find ; 

What  women  did  see  but  my  Love  and  me, 

Would  say,  that  we  use  to  be  kind. 

Grinning  Honour. 

NAY  prithee  don't  fly  me,  but  sit  thee  down  by  me, 
For  I  cannot  endure  the  man  that's  demure, 
A  pox  on  your  Worships  and  Sirs ; 
Your  conjeys  and  trips, 
With  your  legs  and  your  lips, 
Your  Madams  and  Lords, 
With  such  finical  words, 
With  a  complement  you  bring, 
Which  concerneth  no  thing 
You  may  keep  for  the  Gown  and  the  furs. 
For  at  the  beginning,  &°<r. 

These  titles  of  Honours  were  at  first  in  the  Donours, 
And  not  to  the  thing  unto  which  they  do  cling, 
If  the  soul  be  too  narrow  that  wears  them, 

No  delight  can  I  see 

In  the  thing  called  degree  : 

Honest  Dick  sounds  as  well 

As  the  name  with  an  L. 

And  that  with  titles  doth  swell, 

And  sounds  like  a  spell 
To  affright  mortal  ears  when  they  hear  them ; 

He 


Complete.  37 


He  that  wears  a  brave  soul  and  dares  honestly  do, 
He's  a  Herald  to  himself  and  a  God-father  too. 

Why  then  should  we  doat  on  one  with  a  fools  coat  on, 
Whose  Coffers  are  cram'd,  but  yet  he'll  be  dam'd 
E'er  he  do  a  good  Act,  or  a  wise  one  ; 

What  reason  hath  he 

To  be  ruler  o'er  me, 

Who's  a  Lord  in  a  chest : 

But  his  head  and  his  breast 

Are  as  empty  and  bare, 

And  but  puft  up  with  aire, 
And  can  neither  assist  nor  advise  one  \ 

Honour's  but  Air,  and  proud  flesh  but  dust  is, 
It's  we  Commons  make  the  Lords,  as  the  Clarks 

(make  the  Justice. 

But  since  we  must  be  of  a  different  degree, 
Cause  most  do  aspire  to  be  greater  and  higher 
Than  the  rest  of  our  fellows  and  brothers  : 

He  that  hath  such  a  spirit, 

Let  him  gain  't  by  his  merit, 

Spend  his  brain,  wealth,  and  's  blood 

For  his  Countries  good, 

And  make  himself  fit 

By  his  Valour  and  his  wit 
For  things  above  the  reach  of  all  others  : 

Honour's  a  prize,  and  who  wins  it  may  wear  it, 

If  not,  it's  a  Bag,  and  a  burthen  to  bear  it. 

03  For 


38  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

For  my  part  let  me  be  but  quiet  and  free, 

I'll  drink  sack  and  obey,  and  let  great  ones  bear  sway 

Who  spend  .their  whole  time  but  in  thinking ; 

I'll  ne'er  trouble  my  pate 

With  the  secrets  of  State ; 

The  news  books  I'll  burn  all : 

And  with  the  diurnall 

Light  Tobacco,  and  admit, 

That  they  are  so  far  fit 
As  to  serve  good  company  in  drinking  : 

All  the  name  I  desire,  is  an  honest  good  fellow, 
Lets  drink  good  Canary  untill  we  grow  mellow. 

The  Hunting. 

A  Fox,  a  fox,  up  Gallants  to  the  field, 
List  to  the  merry  cry  that  sweetnes  yields  ; 

Joves  high-bred  boy  rides  mounted  on  a  Tun ; 

Selenia  makes  his  lasie  Ass  to  run  [Stlenus] 

In  persuit  of  the  chace, 

With  which  may  none  compare, 

Neither  for  four  miles  race, 

Nor  hunting  of  the  hare. 

Joyn  Musick  to  the  Cry,  that  hollow  rocks 
May  eccho  forth  the  hunting  of  the  Fox. 

The  Fox  hath  lost  the  field  and  left  the  Town, 
And  up  your  barly  hill  showrs  up  and  down,    [scowrs] 

With 


Complete.  39 

With  fear  inforc'd,  weak  Reynold  seems  to  daunt 
The  courage  of  the  warlike  Elephant ; 
But  hark,  the  Horns  do  blow, 
And  all  the  huntsmen  shout ; 
There  goes  the  Game,  I  know, 
But  Tickler  drives  him  out ; 
Joyn  Musick,  &c. 

Ride,  ride,  St.  George,  he's  stole  into  the  bush, 
Old  Swag-pot  makes  him  straight  from  thence  to  rush ; 
Then  creeps  into  the  vine,  and  there  doth  earth ; 
O  heavenly  cry,  exceeding  earthly  mirth  ! 
Hark  Youland,  and  Pottle, 
Old  Gusquin  and  Rainsbolt, 
But  hark  how  Pirn  doth  Tattle 
Now  he's  got  to  the  hole  ; 
Joyn  Musick,  &c. 

The  Fox  quite  spent,  about  the  Town  he  reels, 

And  now  in  view  he's  followed  at  the  heels ; 

Then  climbs  the  tree,  that  climbing  was  his  fall, 

And  to  that  fall  came  in  the  Huntsmen  all : 

Then  Sug,  and  soot,  swilback, 

Cavil,  and  speckled  Dyer, 

Toss,  swagger,  and  Spendall 

Tug  him  through  dirt  and  mire ; 

Now  Joyn  our  horn  and  voices  all,  that  hollow  rocks 
May  eccho  forth  the  hunting  of  the  Fox. 

04  A 


4O  Merry  Drollerie, 


A  Song. 

AH,  ah,  come  see  what's  here  ! 
Young  -Rufus  drawing  near, 
With  his  thoughts,  and  his  eyes, 
And  his  elevated  cries ; 
Take  heed  how  you  come  near, 
For  in  a  rapture  his  weak  stature 
Mounts  above  the  Moon  ; 
And  being  there,  doth  stamp  and  stare, 
And  swear  there  is  no  room 
To  contain  his  old  brain  in  the  skies, 
But  he'll  go  down  below, 
And  he'll  know  if  it  be  so, 
Whether  all  the  wild  boyes,          [  ?  Whither] 
Having  spent  their  mad  daies, 
Goes  when  such  men  dies. 

But  he  finds  no  comfort  there, 
Back  again  to  the  man  in  the  air ; 
He  catches  at  the  Moon, 
And  pulls  off  the  shepherds  shoone, 
And  leaves  his  ten  toes  bare ; 
Now  the  Youth  grows  mad, 
The  Moon-man,  that  was  sad, 
Starts  up  as  wild  as  he, 
With  frowning  angry  look. 

Stood 


Complete.  41 

Stood  kirdling  with  his  hook, 

And  demands  what  he  might  be  : 

He  did  reply,  I  will  fly  round  the  Globe  ; 

Then  make  way  Earth  and  Sea, 

He'll  not  stay  for  to  Play, 

Consent  with  him  importune, 

He  fears  an  evil  Fortune, 

All  his  delight's  abroad. 


A  Droll. 

LEt  dogs  and  divels  die  ; 
Let  Wits  and  Money  fly  ; 
Let  the  slaves  of  the  earth 
Be  abortive  in  their  birth  [,] 

Well  or  111  come,  what  care  I ; 
For  I  will  roar,  I  will  drink,  I  will  whore, 
I  spend  nought  but  my  own  : 
Let  slaves  of  the  world  be  suddenly  hurl'd, 
Or  with  a  whirlwind  blown, 
In  and  out,  round  about,  hey  boyes,  hey  : 
Let  us  sing,  let  us  laugh ; 
Let  us  drink,  let  us  quaff; 
See  the  world  is  sliding, 
Here  is  no  abiding, 
Our  life's  but  a  Hollyday. 

A 


42  Merry  Drollerie, 


The  Jealous  Husband. 

A  Young  man  that's  in  love  with  one  that's  wed, 
Which  of  his  sweet  heart  hath  a  Jealous  head ; 
Hath  hatched  a  furious  beast, 
For  Jealousie  takes  no  rest. 

It  is  a  mad  frenzy  that  broiles  in  the  brain, 
It  fumes  in  the  stomack,  and  filleth  the  vein : 
The  handmaids  that  upon  it  do  wait, 
Is  fear,  suspition,  and  hate. 

The  smoak  of  Tobacco  it  troubleth  the  brain, 
It  makes  a  man  giddy,  and  quiet  again  : 
If  once  he  cry,  stand  away,  puff, 
He  taketh  all  kindness  in  snuff. 

He  holds  it  a  scorn  the  trueness  of  love, 
But  woe  to  the  woman  that's  forced  to  prove, 
At  home,  and  in  every  place, 
She  lives  in  a  pitiful  case. 

If  he  do  but  miss  her  out  of  his  sight, 
He  rangeth  about  like  a  wandring  spright  : 
And  though  she  be  within  the  house, 
He  hunts  her  as  a  Cat  doth  a  Mouse. 

If 


Complete.  43 

If  any  be  with  her,  O  how  his  heart  akes  ! 
He  sickles,  he  tickles,  he  trembles,  he  quakes  ; 
But  if  she  be  all  alone, 
He  sneaks  away  like  a  mome. 

If  she  be  abroad,  and  not  to  be  found, 
He  hunts,  and  he  scents,  like  a  bloud-hound ; 
If  he  her  consort  doth  distaste, 
O  how  the  poor  fool  is  aghast ! 

At  feasts,  and  at  meetings,  O  how  he  will  pry, 
He'll  wink  and  nod,  and  observe  her  eye  ; 
His  mops  and  mows  he  will  shape, 
Like  an  old  Paris-Garden  Ape. 

If  any  do  kiss  her,  or  kindly  her  use, 

O  how  it  doth  vex  him,  and  make  him  to  muse  ! 

And  plague  him  with  such  a  smart, 

As  gripeth  his  very  heart. 

Perhaps  he  will  flatter,  and  make  excuse, 
Dissembling  his  folly,  which  might  her  abuse ; 
And  seemingly  shews  himself  kind, 
When  Jealousie  sticks  in  his  mind. 

I'll  tell  you  his  vertues,  to  hold  on  my  Rime, 
No  fool  is  kinder  for  a  fit  or  a  time ; 
He  flatters,  he  kisses,  he  swears, 
It  is  out  of  love  that  he  bears. 

If 


44  Merry  Drollery ', 

If  this  be  true  love,  I  would  have  no  such ; 
I'll  rather  wish  no  love  than  thus  over  much ; 
For  thus  a  fond  jealous  Elfe 
Disquiets  his  wife  and  himself. 

I  wonder  what  pleasure  he  findeth  thereby, 
To  find  his  own  torment  that  hidden  may  lye, 
And  frets  like  a  canker  in  heart, 
And  breeds  his  continual  smart. 

He  pouts,  he  lowrs,  he  looks  like  a  Cur, 
He'll  chide,  he'll  brawl,  he'll  keep  a  foul  stir, 
And  swear  he  will  slit  her  face, 
Before  he'll  endure  disgrace. 

He  ruffles,  he  shuffles,  he  frets  and  fumes, 
He  Puffs,  and  snuffs,  and  sets  up  his  plumes ; 
And  though  the  fool  have  no  hurt 
He'll  call  for  a  Constable  blurt. 

He  fretteth,  he  swelleth,  he  spoyleth  his  diet; 
He  stormeth,  he  rageth,  he  is  seldom  quiet ; 
He  wastes  away  like  dross, 
When  none  but  himself  is  his  Cross. 

He  mumbles,  and  grumbles,  poor  silly  man, 
He  whineth,  he  pineth,  he  looks  pale  and  wan  ; 
And  when  he  perceives  he  must  die 
He  cries,  out  upon  Jealousie,  fie. 

I'd 


Complete.  45 


I'd  rather  be  a  Cuckold,  than  be  so  possest 
With  such  a  foul  spirit  that  never  gives  rest, 
That  when  the  Coxcomb  should  sleep, 
Like  a  boy,  he  will  play  at  bopeep. 

Besides  the  great  scandal  Jealousie  bears, 
All  men  will  deride  him  even  to  his  ears, 
And  boys  in  the  street  as  he  goes 
Will  point  with  finger  at  nose. 

He  that's  a  Wittal  doth  live  at  more  ease, 
He  knows  the  worst ;  and  doth  himself  please  : 
But  he  that's  a  Cuckold  known, 
May  swear  it's  no  fault  of  his  own. 

A  wife  that's  abus'd,  if  she  would  not  tell, 
May  work  out  a  charm  to  fill  his  night  spell, 
Much  better  to  please  his  mind 
And  serve  a  fool  in  his  kind. 

She  is  now  his  equal,  his  flesh  and  his  mate, 
And  none  but  the  devil  would  work  their  debate  : 
For  being  of  two  made  one, 
It  is  fit  he  should  let  her  alone. 

And  yet  to  conclude,  though  this  is  a  curse, 
A  woman  that's  Jealous  is  twenty  times  worse  : 
For  she,  like  a  cackling  hen, 

Will  giggle  it  out  to  all  men. 

Womens 


46  Merry  Drollerie, 


Womens  delight. 

THere  dwelt  a  maid  in  the  Cunny-gate, 
And  she  was  wondrous  fair, 
And  she  would  have  an  old  man 
Was  overgrown  with  hair; 

And  ever  she  cry'd,  O  turn, 
O  turn  thee  unto  me, 
Thou  hast  the  thing  I  have  not, 
A  little  above  the  knee. 

He  bought  her  a  Gown  of  green, 

Became  her  wondrous  well : 
And  she  bought  him  a  long  sword 

To  hang  down  by  his  heel ; 

And  ever  she  cry'd,  &>c. 

He  bought  her  a  Pair  of  sheers 

To  hang  by  her  side  : 
And  she  bought  him  a  winding-sheet 

Against  the  day  he  dy'd  ; 

And  ever  she  cry'd,  6°<r. 

He  bought  her  a  Gown,  a  Gown, 

Imbroider'd  all  with  gold  : 
And  she  gave  him  a  night-cap 
To  keep  him  from  the  cold, 

And  ever  she  cry'd,  &>c. 

He 


Complete.  47 

He  bought  her  a  Gown,  a  Gown, 

Imbroider'd  all  with  red  : 
And  she  gave  him  a  pair  of  horns 
to  wear  upon  his  head  ; 

And  ever  she  cry'd,  [O]  turn, 
O  turn  thee  unto  me, 
Thou  hast  the  thing  I  have  not 
A  little  above  the  knee. 

The  Drunkard. 

THe  Spring  is  coming  on,  and  our  spirits  begin 
To  return  to  their  places  merrily  home, 
And  every  man  is  bound  to  lay  in  a  good 
Brewing  of  bloud  for  the  year  to  come. 

They  are  Cowards  that  make  it  of  clarified  whay, 
Or  drink,  with  the  swine,  of  the  Juice  of  grains ; 
Let  me  have  the  rasie  Canary  to  play, 
And  the  sparkling  Rhenish  to  dance  in  my  veins, 

Let  Dotards  go  preach,  that  our  lives  are  but  short, 
And  tell  us  much  wine  doth  quick  death  invite  : 
But  we'll  be  reveng'd  before  hand,  and  for  \ 
We'll  croud  a  lives  mirth  in  the  space  of  a  night. 

Then  stand  we  about  with  our  glasses  full  crown'd, 
Till  every  thing  else  to  our  postures  do  grow, 

Till 


48  Merry  Drollerie, 

Till  our  cups,  and  our  heads,  and  the  house  go  round, 
And  the  Sellar  become  where  the  Chamber  is  now. 

Come  fill  us  some  wine,  we'll  a  sacrifice  bring, 
This  night  full  of  sack  to  the  health  of  our  K 


Till  we  baffle  the  stars,  and  the  Sun  fetch  about, 
And  tipple,  and  tipple,  and  tipple,  a  rout. 

Whose  first  rising  raies  that  is  shown  from  his  throne 
Shall  dash  upon  faces  as  red  as  his  own, 
And  wonder  that  Mortals  can  fuddle  away 
As  much  wine  in  a  night  as  he  water  i'  th'  day. 


In  Praise  of  Chocolate. 

DOctors  lay  by  your  irkesome  books  : 
And  all  the  petty-fogging  Rooks 
Leave  quacking,  and  enucleate 
The  vertues  of  our  Chocolate. 

Let  th'  universall  medicine 

(Made  up  of  dead-mens  bones  and  skin) 

Be  henceforth  illegitimate, 

And  yield  to  soveraign  Chocolate. 

Let  bawdy-baths  be  us'd  no  more, 
Nor  smoaky-stoves,  but  by  the  whore 

Of 


Complete.  49 


. 


Of  Babylon,  since  happy  fate 
Hath  blessed  us  with  Chocolate. 

Let  old  Puncieus  greaze  his  shooes 
With  his  mock-Balsome,  and  abuse 
No  more  the  world  :  but  meditate 
The  excellence  of  Chocolate. 


Let  Doctor  Trig  (who  so  excells) 
No  longer  trudge  to  westward  wells ; 
For  though  that  water  expurgate, 
It's  but  the  dregs  of  Chocolate. 


r 


Let  all  the  Paracelsian  Crew, 

Who  can  extract  Christian  from  Jew, 

Or  out  of  Monarchy  or  state  [,] 

Break  all  their  Stills  for  Chocolate.  [;] 


Tell  us  no  more  of  weapon-salve, 
But  rather  doom  us  to  a  grave, 
For  sure  our  wounds  will  ulcerate 
Unless  they're  washt  with  Chocolate. 

The  thriving  Saint,  that  will  not  come 
Within  a  sack-shops  bouzing  Room, 
(His  spirits  to  exhilerate) 
Drinks  bowls  (at  home)  of  Chocolate. 

D  His 


5O  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

His  spouse,  when  she  (brim-full  of  sence) 
Doth  want  her  due  benevolence, 
And  babes  of  grace  would  propagate, 
Is  alwaies  sipping  Chocolate. 

The  roaring  Crew  of  gallant  ones, 
Whose  marrow  rots  within  their  bones, 
Their  bodies  quickly  regulate, 
If  once  but  sous'd  in  Chocolate. 

Young  heirs,  that  have  more  Land  than  wit, 
When  once  they  do  but  taste  of  it, 
Will  rather  spend  their  whole  Estate 
Than  weaned  be  from  Chocolate. 

The  nut-brown  Lasses  of  the  I,and, 
Whom  Nature  vaiPd  in  face  and  hand, 
Are  quickly  beauties  of  high  rate, 
By  one  small  draught  of  Chocolate. 

Besides,  it  saves  the  moneys  lost 
Each  day  in  patches,  which  did  cost 
Them  dear,  untill  of  late 
They  found  this  heavenly  Chocolate, 

Nor  need  the  women  longer  grieve, 
Who  spend  their  Oyl,  yet  not  conceive  : 
But  its  a  help  immediate 
If  such  but  lick  of  Chocolate  [.] 

Consumptions 


Complete.  5 1 

Consumptions  too  (be  well  assured) 
Are  no  less  soon  than  soundly  cur'd 
(Excepting  such  as  do  relate 
Unto  the  purse)  by  Chocolate. 

Nay  more  :  Its  Virtue  is  so  much, 
That  if  a  Lady  get  a  touch, 
Her  grief  it  will  extenuate, 
If  she  but  smell  of  Chocolate. 

The  feeble  man,  whom  nature  ties 
To  do  his  Mistris's  drudgeries  : 
O  how  it  will  his  mind  elate, 
If  she  allow  him  Chocolate. 

'Twill  make  old  women  young  and  fresh, 
Create  new  motions  of  the  flesh, 
And  cause  them  long  for  you  know  what, 
If  they  but  taste  of  Chocolate. 

There's  ne'er  a  Common-Council  man, 
Whose  life  will  reach  unto  a  span, 
Should  he  not  well  affect  the  state, 
And  first  and  last  drink  Chocolate. 

Nor  ne'er  a  Citizen's  chaste  wife 
That  ever  shall  prolong  her. life, 
(Whilst  open  stands  her  postern  gate) 
Unless  she  drink  of  Chocolate. 

D  2  Nor 


52  Merry  Drollerie, 

Nor  dos't  the  Levite  any  harm, 
It  keepeth  his  devotion  warm  ; 
And  eke  the  hair  upon  his  pate, 
So  long  as  he  drinks  Chocolate. 

Both  high  and  low,  both  rich  and  poor, 

My  Lord,  my  Lady,  and  his 

With  all  the  folks  at  Billingsgate, 
Bow,  bow  your  hams  to  Chocolate. 


A  Catch. 

THere  was  an  old  man  had  an  acre  of  land, 
He  sold  it  for  five  pound  a, 
He  went  to  the  Tavern  and  drank  it  all  out, 

Excepting  half  a  crown  a  : 
And  as  he  came  home  he  met  with  a  wench, 

And  ask'd  her  whether  she  was  willing 
To  go  to  the  Tavern  and  spend  eighteen  pence, 
And for  the  other  odd  shilling. 


The  Cavalier's  Complaint. 

COme,  Jack,  let's  drink  a  Pot  of  Ale, 
And  I  shall  tell  thee  such  a  Tale 
Will  make  thine  ears  to  ring : 

My 


Complete.  53 

My  Coyn  is  spent,  my  time  is  lost, 
And  I  this  only  Fruit  can  boast, 
That  once  I  saw  my  King. 

But  this  doth  most  afflict  my  mind, 
I  went  to  Court,  in  hope  to  find 
Some  of  my  friends  in  Place ; 
And  walking  there,  I  had  a  sight 
Of  all  the  Crew :  But,  by  this  light, 
I  hardly  knew  one  face  ! 

S'life  [!]  of  so  many  Noble  Sparkes, 
Who  on  their  bodies  bear  the  Markes 

Of  their  integrity, 
And  suffered  Ruin  of  estate  ; 
It  was  my  damn'd  unhappy  Fate, 

That  I  not  one  could  see  ! 

Not  one,  upon  my  life,  among 
My  old  acquaintance,  all  along 

At  Truro,  and  before ; 
And,  I  suppose  the  Place  can  shew 
As  few  of  those,  whom  thou  didst  know 

At  York,  or  Marston-moore. 

But,  truly,  There  are  swarms  of  Those, 
Whose  Chins  are  beardless,  yet  their  Hose 
And  Buttocks  still  wear  muffs  ; 

D  3  Whilst 


54  Merry  Drollerie, 

Whilst  the  old  rusty  Cavaleer 
Retires,  or  dares  not  once  appear 
For  want  of  Coin,  and  Cuffs. 

When  none  of  these  I  could  descry, 

Who,  better  far  deserved  ;  than  I  [,] 

[I]  Calmly  did  reflect ; 
Old  services,  (by  rule  of  state) 
Like  Almanacks,  grow  out  of  date, 

What  then  can  I  expect  ? 

Troth,  in  contempt  of  Fortunes  frown, 
I'll  get  me  fairly  out  of  town, 

And,  in  a  Cloyster  pray, 
That,  since  the  Stars  are  yet  unkind 
To  Royallists,  the  King  may  find 

More  faithfull  friends  than  they. 


An  Eccho  to  the  Cavaleer s  complaint, 

I    Marvel  Dick,  That  having  been 
So  long  abroad,  and  having  seen 
The  world,  as  thou  hast  done, 
Thou  should'st  acquaint  Me  with  a  tale 
As  old  as  Nestor,  and  as  stale 
As  that  of  Priest  and  Nun  ! 

Are 


Complete.  5  5 

Are  We  to  learn  what  is  a  Court  ? 
A  Pageant  made  for  fortune's  sport, 

Where  Merits  scarce  appear : 
For  bashfull  Merit  only  dwells 
In  Camps,  in  Villages  and  Cells  j 

Alas  !  it  dwells  not  there, 

Desert  is  nice  in  its  Address, 
And  Merit  oftimes  doth  oppress 

Beyond  what  Guilt  would  do  : 
But  they  are  sure  of  there  Demands,  [their] 

That  come  to  Court  with  Golden-hands 

And  Brazen-faces  too. 

The  King,  they  say,  doth  still  profess 
To  give  His  Party  some  redress, 

And  cherish  Honesty  : 
But  his  good  wishes  prove  in  vain, 
Whose  Service  with  His  servants  gain, 

Not  alwaies  doth  agree. 

All  Princes  (be  they  never  so  wise) 
Are  fain  to  see  with  others  Eyes, 

But  seldom  hear  at  all : 
And  Courtiers  find't  their  interest, 
In  Time  to  feather  well  their  nest, 

Providing  for  their  Fall. 

D  4  Our 


56  Merry  Dr oiler ie, 

Our  Comfort  doth  on  Time  depend  ; 
Things,  When  they  are  at  worst,  will  mend  : 

And  let  us  but  reflect 
On  our  Condition  th'  other  day, 
When  none  but  Tyrants  bore  the  sway, 

What  did  we  then  expect  ? 

Mean  while  a  calm  retreat  is  best : 
But  discontent  (if  not  supprest) 

Will  breed  Disloyalty. 
This  is  the  constant  note  I  sing, 
I  have  been  faithfull  to  the  King, 

And  so  shall  ever  be. 


The  Colchester  Quaker. 

A  LI  in  the  Land  of  Essex 
Near  Cholchester  the  zealous, 
On  the  side  of  a  bank, 
Was  play'd  such  a  prank, 
As  would  make  a  stone-horse  Jealous. 

Help  Woodcock,  Fox,  and  Nailor, 
For  brother  Green's  a  stallion, 

Now  alas  what  hope, 

Of  converting  the  Pope, 
When  a  quaker  turns  Italian  ? 

Unto 


Complete.  57 

Unto  our  whole  profession, 
A  scandall  'twill  be  counted, 

When  'tis  talk't  with  disdain, 

Amongst  the  profane, 
How  Brother  Green  was  mounted. 

And  in  the  good  time  of  Christmas, 
Which  though  the  Saints  have  damn'd  all, 

Yet  when  did  they  hear 

That  a  damn'd  Cavalier 
E'er  play'd  such  a  Christmas  gamball,  [?] 

Had  thy  flesh,  O  Green,  been  pamper'd 
With  any  Gates  unhallow'd, 

Hadst  thou  sweetned  thy  Gums 

With  Pottage  of  Plums, 
Or  Profane  minc'd-Pie  hadst  swallow'd. 

RolPd  up  in  wanton  Swines  flesh, 
The  fiend  might  have  crept  into  thee, 

Then  fulness  of  gut 

Might  have  made  thee  rut, 
And  the  Divel  so  have  rid  through  thee. 

But  alas,  he  had  been  feasted 

With  a  spiritual  Collation, 

By  our  frugal  Mayer 

Who  can  dine  with  a  prayer, 

And  sup  with  an  Exhortation. 

Twos 


58  Merry  Drollerie, 

Twas  meer  impulse  of  spirit, 
Though  he.  us'd  the  weapon  carnall, 
Filly-Foal,  quoth  he, 
My  bride  thou  shalt  be  : 
Now  how  this  is  lawfull,  learn  all. 

For  if  no  respect  of  persons 
Be  due  'mongst  the  sons  of  Adam, 
In  a  large  extent 
Then  may  it  be  meant 
That  a  Mare's  as  good  as  a  Madam. 

Then  without  more  Ceremony, 
Nor  Bonnet  vaiPd,  nor  kist  her, 
He  took  her  by  force 
For  better  for  worse, 
And  he  us'd  her  like  a  Sister. 

Now  when  in  such  a  Saddle 
A  Saint  will  needs  be  riding, 

Though  I  dare  not  say, 
JTis  a  falling  away, 
May  there  not  be.  some  back-sliding  ? 

No  surely,  quoth  Barnes  Naylor, 

'Twas  but  an  insurrection 

Of  the  Carnal  part, 
For  a  Quaker  in  heart 

Can  never  lose  perfection. 


Complete.  59 

For  so  our  ^Masters  teach  us,       *Hist.  of  Jesuitism. 
The  intent  being  well  directed  ; 

Though  the  divel  trapan 

The  Adamical  man, 
The  Saint  stands  uninfected. 

But  yet  a  Pagan  Jury 

Still  Judges  what's  intended, 

Then  say  what  we  can, 
Brother  Green's  outward  man, 

I  fear,  will  be  suspended. 

And  our  adopted  Sister 
Will  find  no  better  quarter, 

But  when  him  we  inroule 

For  a  Saint ;  Filly  Foal 
Shall  pass  at  least  for  a  Martyr. 

Now  Rome  that  Spiritual  Sodom 
No  longer  is  thy  debter, 

O  Colchester  now 

Who's  Sodom,  but  thou 
Even  according  to  the  Letter  ? 

Help  Woodcock,  Fox  and  Nay  lor; 
For  Brother  Green's  a  Stallion. 

Now  alas  what  hope 

Of  converting  the  Pope, 
When  a  Quaker  turns  Italian. 

The 


60  Merry  Drollerie, 


M 


The  Character  of  a  Mistris. 
Y  Mistris  is  a  shittle-cock, 


Composed  of  Cork  and  feather, 
Each  Battledore  sets  on  her  dock, 

And  bumps  her  on  the  leather  : 
But  cast  her  off  which  way  you  Will, 
She  will  requoile  to  another  still,  Fa,  la,  la,  la,  la,  Is 

My  Mistris  is  a  Tennis-ball, 

Compos'd  of  Gotten  fine ; 
She  is  often  struck  against  the  wall, 

And  banded  under-line, 
But  if  you  will  her  mind  fulfill, 
You  must  pop  her  in  the  hazard  still,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Nightingale 

So  sweetly  she  can  sing, 
She  is  as  fair  as  Philomel, 

The  daughter  of  a  King; 
And  in  the  darksome  nights  so  thick 
She  loves  to  lean  against  a  prick,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Ship  of  war, 

With  shot  discharged  at  her 
The  Poope  hath  inferred  many  a  scar 

Even  both  by  wind  and  water  ; 

But 


Complete.  61 

But  as  she  grapples,  at  the  last 

She  drowns  the  man,  pulls  downs  her  mast,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Virginal, 

And  little  cost  will  string  her : 
She's  often  rear'd  against  the  wall 

For  every  man  to  finger, 
But  to  say  truth,  if  you  will  her  please 
You  must  run  division  on  her  keys,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Conny  fine, 

She's  of  the  softest  skin, 
And  if  you  please  to  open  her, 

The  best  part  lies  within, 
And  in  her  Conny-burrow  may 
Two  Tumblers  and  a  Ferrit  play,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  the  Moon  so  bright : 

I  wish  that  I  could  win  her ; 
She  never  walks  but  in  the  night, 

And  bears  a  man  within  her, 
Which  on  his  back  bears  pricks  and  thorns, 
And  once  a  month  she  brings  him  horns,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Tinder-box, 

Would  I  had  such  a  one ; 
Her  Steel  endureth  many  a  knock 

Both  by  the  flint  and  stone. 

And 


62  Merry  Drollerie, 

And  if  you  stir  the  Tinder  much, 

The  match  will  fire  at  every  touch,  Fa,  la,  la. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Puritan, 

She  will  not  swear  an  oath, 
But  for  to  lye  with  any  man, 

She  is  not  very  loath ; 
But  pure  to  pure,  and  there's  no  sin, 
There's  nothing  lost  that  enters  in,  Fa,  la,  la. 

But  why  should  I  my  Mistris  call, 

A  shittle-cock  or  bawble, 
A  ship  of  war  or  Tennis-ball, 

Which  things  be  variable  ? 
But  to  commend,  I'll  say  no  more, 
My  Mistris  is  an  arrant ,  Fa,  la,  la,  la,  la,  laa 


Oliver  routing  the  Rump. 

(before, 

Will  you  hear  a  strange  thing,  ne'er  heard  of 
A  Ballad  of  news  without  any  lyes  : 
The  Parliament  men  are  turn'd  out  of  door, 
And  so  is  the  Council  of  State  likewise. 

Brave  Oliver  came  into  th'  House  like  a  spright, 
His  fiery  looks  made  the  Speaker  dumbe  : 
You  must  be  gone  home,  qftoth  he,  by  this  light, 
Do  you  mean  to  sit  here  untill  dooms-day  come  ? 

With 


Complete.  63 

With  that  the  Speaker  lookt  pale  for  fear, 
As  if  he  had  been  with  the  night  mare  rid, 
Which  made  most  men  believe,  that  were  there, 
That  he  did  even  as  the  Alderman  did. 

For  Oliver  thought  he  were  Doctor  at  law,  [though  Jt] 
It  seems  he  plaid  the  Physitian  there  : 
Whose  Physick  so  wrought  in  the  Speakers  maw, 
That  it  gave  him  a  stool  instead  of  a  Chair, 

Sir  Arthur  thought  Oliver  wondrous  bold, 
Hoping  there  to  make  some  stir : 
But  in  the  mean  time,  take  this  from  me, 
Sir  Arthur  must  yield  to  brave  Oliver. 

Harry  Martin  wondred  to  see  such  a  thing 
Done  by  a  Saint  of  so  high  degree  : 
An  Act  he  did  not  expect  from  a  King, 
Much  less  from  such  a  dry-bone  as  he. 

But  Oliver p,  laying  hands  on  his  sword, 
Upbraids  him  with  adultery  : 
Then  Martin  gave  him  never  a  word, 
But  humbly  thank'd  his  Majesty. 

Much  wit  he  had  shewed  if  that  he  had  dar'd, 
But  silent  he  was  for  fear  of  some  knocks  : 
Quoth  he,  if  I  get  you  within  my  ward, 
I  may  chance  to  send  you  out  with  a  Pox. 

Allen 


64  Merry  Drollerie, 

Allen  the  Copper-smith  was  in  great  fear, 

He  had  done  as  much  hurt  since  the  war  began  : 

A  broken  Citizen  many  a  year, 

And  now  he's  a  broken  Parliament-man  : 

But  Oliver  told  him  what  he  had  been, 
And  him  a  cheating  Knave  did  call, 
Which  put  him  into  a  fit  of  the  spleen, 
For  now  he  must  give  an  account  of  all. 

It  went  to  the  heart  of  Sir  Henry  Vane, 
To  think  what  a  terrible  fall  he  should  have  : 
For  he  who  did  once  in  the  Parliament  raign 
Was  call'd  as  I  hear,  a  dissembling  Knave. 

Who  gave  him  that  name  you  may  easily  know, 
'Twas  one  that  studied  the  art  full  well, 
You  may  swear  it  was  true,  if  he  call'd  him  so, 
And  how  to  dissemble  I'm  sure  he  can  tell. 

Bradshaw,  the  President,  proud  as  the  Pope, 
Who  lov'd  upon  Kings  and  Princes  to  trample, 
Now  the  House  is  dissolved,  who  cannot  but  hope 
To  see  such  a  President  made  an  example. 

If  I  were  one  of  the  Council  of  state, 
I'll  tell  you  what  my  vote  should  be  : 
Upon  his  new  Turret  at  Westminster, 
There  to  be  hanged  he  should  be. 

Then 


Complete.  65 


Then  room  for  the  Speaker  without  his  mace, 
And  room  for  the  rest  of  the  rabble-rout : 
My  Masters,  is  not  this  a  pittifull  case 
Like  the  snuff  of  a  candle  thus  to  go  out  ? 

1 1  cannot  but  wonder  you  should  agree, 
You  that  have  been  such  brethren  in  evill : 
A  dissolution  there  needs  must  be, 
When  the  Divel  is  divided  against  a  Devil. 

Some  like  this  change,  and  some  like  it  not ; 
Some  say  it  was  not  done  in  due  season  ; 
Some  say  it  was  the  Jesuites  plot, 
It  so  much  resembles  the  Gunpowder  treason. 

Some  think  that  Cromwel  and  Charles  are  agreed, 
And  sure  it  were  good  policy  if  it  were  so, 
Lest  the  Hollander,  French,  the  Dane  and  the  Swede 
Should  bring  him  in  whether  he  will  or  no. 

And  now  I  would  gladly  conclude  my  song 
With  a  prayer  as  Ballads  use  to  do, 
But  yet  I'll  forbear,  for  I  hope  er't  be  long 
We  shall  have  the  King  and  a  Parliament  too. 


66  Merry  Drollerie, 

A  Song  of  Nothing. 

I'Le  Sing  you  a  Sonnet  that  ne'er  was  in  Print, 
Tis  truly  and  newly  come  out  of  the  Mint, 
Tie  tell  you  before-hand,  you'l  find  Nothing  in't, 
On  Nothing  I  think,  and  on  Nothing  I  write ; 
Tis  Nothing  I  court,  yet  Nothing  I  slight, 
Nor  care  I  a  Pin,  if  I  get  Nothing  by't  (men, 

Fire,  Air,  Earth,  and  water,  Beasts,  Birds,  Fish  and  silly 
Did  start  out  of  Nothing,  a  Chaos,  a  Den ; 
And  all  things  shall  turn  into  Nothing  agen. 
Tis  Nothing  sometimes  makes  many  things  hit  [,] 
As  when  fools  among  wise  men  do  silently  sit  [;] 
A  fool  that  says  Nothing,  may  pass  for  a  wit. 
What  one  man  loves  is  another  mans  loathing, 
This  blade  loves  a  quick  thing,  that  loves  a  slow 
And  both  do  in  the  conclusion  love  Nothing,     (thing; 
Your  Lad  that  makes  love  to  a  delicate  smooth  thing 
And  thinking  with  sighs  to  gain  her  &  soothing, 
Frequently  makes  much  ado  about  Nothing, 
At  last  when  his  pat'ence  and  purse  is  decay'd 
He  may  to  the  bed  of  a  Whore  be  betray'd  ; 
But  she  that  hath  Nothing,  must  need  be  a  maid. 
Your  slashing,  and  clashing,  and  flashing  of  wit 
Doth  start  out  of  Nothing,  but  fancy  and  fit ; 
Tis  little  or  Nothing  to  what  hath  been  writ,         [.] 
When  first  by  the  ears  we  together  did  fall, 

Then 


Complete.  67 

Then  something  got  Nothing,  and  Nothing  got  all ; 

From  Nothing  it  came,  and  to  Nothing  it  shall 

That  party  that  seal'd  to  a  cov'nant  in  haste, 

Who  made  our  3  Kingdoms,  and  Churches  lie  waste ; 

Their  project,  and  all  came  to  Nothing  at  last. 

They  raised  an  Army  of  horse,  and  Foot, 

To  tumble  down  Monarchy,  Branches  and  Root ; 

They  thunder'd  and  plunder'd,  but  Nothing  would 

The  Organ,  the  Altar,  and  Ministers  cloathing     (do't 

In  Presbyter  Jack  begot  such  a  loathing, 

That  he  must  needs  raise  a  petty  New-Nothing, 

And  when  he  had  rob'd  us  in  sanctifi'd  cloathing, 

Perjur'd  the  people  by  faithing  and  tro thing ; 

At  last  he  was  catch't  and  all  came  to  Nothing.. 

In  several  Factions  we  quarrel  and  brawl, 

Dispute,  and  contend,  and  to  fighting  we  fall ; 

I'le  lay  all  to  Nothing,  that  Nothing  wins  all. 

When  war,  and  rebellion,  and  plundering  grows, 

The  Mendicant  man  is  the  freest  from  foes, 

For  he  is  most  happy  hath  Nothing  to  lose. 

Brave  Cczsar  and  Pompey,  and  Great  Alexander, 

Whom  Armies  follow'd  as  Goose  follows  Gander, 

Nothing  can  sayt'  tis  an  action  of  slander. 

The  wisest  great  Prince,  were  he  never  so  stout  (rout, 

Though  [he]  conquer  the  world,  and  give  mankind  a 

Did  bring  Nothing  in,  nor  shall  bear  Nothing  out. 

Old  Noll  that  arose  from  High-thing  to  Low-thing, 

By  brewing  rebellion,  Nicking,  and  Frothing, 

In  sev'n  years  distance  was  all  things,  and  Nothing. 

E  2  Dick 


68  Merry  Drollerie, 

Dick  (Oliver's  Heir)  that  pitiful  slow-thing, 

Who  was  once  invested  with  purple-cloathing, 

Stands  for  a  Cypher,  and  that  stands  for  Nothing. 

If  King-killers  bold  are  excluded  from  bliss, 

Old  Bradshaw  (that  feels  the  reward  on't  by  this) 

Had  better  been  Nothing,  than  what  now  he  is. 

Blind  Collonel  Hewson,  that  lately  did  crawl 

To  lofty  degree,  from  a  low  Coblers  stall, 

Did  bring  Aul  to  Nothing,  when  Aul  came  to  all. 

Your  Gallants  that  Rant  it  in  delPcate  clothing, 

Though  lately  he  was  but  a  pit'ful  low-thing, 

Pays  Landlord,  Draper,  and  Taylor,  with  Nothing. 

The  nimble-tongu'd  Lawyer  that  pleads  for  his  pay, 

When  death  doth  arrest  him  and  bear  him  away, 

At  the  Gen'ral  Bar  will  have  Nothing  to  say. 

Whores  that  in  Silk  were  by  Gallants  embrac't ; 

By  a  rabble  of  Prentices  lately  were  chac't     [:]     (last. 

Thus  Courting,  and  sporting,  comes  to  Nothing   at 

If  any  man  tax  me  with  weakness  of  wit 

And  say  that  on  Nothing,  I  nothing  have  writ, 

I  shall  answer  ex  nihilo  nihilfit. 

Yet  let  his  discreet  one  be  never  so  tall, 

This  very  word  Nothing  shall  give  it  a  fall, 

For  writing  of  Nothing  I  comprehend  all. 

Let  every  man  give  the  Poet  his  due, 

'Cause  then  it  was  with  him  as  now  it's  with  you, 

He  studi'd  it  when  he  had  Nothing  to  doe. 

This  very  word  Nothing  if  it  took  the  right  way 

May 


Complete.  69 

May  prove  advantagious  [;]  for  what  would  you  say, 
If  the  Vintner  should  cry  there  is  Nothing  to  pay. 

A  Catch. 

BAcchus,  I  am  come  from  the  sun-shine  fell 
To  you,  mad  wags,  the  force  of  wine  to  tell, 
And  from  those  Sack-butts,  Prest  from  grapes  of 
There's  none  shall  taste  but  I  will  taste  again.    (Spain 
Sack,  Sack  is  the  thing  that  makes  the  brain  rumble, 
It  fools  the  wise,  and  makes  the  Gallant  stumble. 
Sack  hath  the  power  the  sense  of  man  depriving, 

O  take  heed  then  ; 
Sack  keeps  the  wealthy  man  from  thriving, 

Fools  then  be  wise. 
He  that  in  drink  doth  keep  no  mean 

It  makes  him  lean  ; 
And  he  that  reels, 
See  what  he  feels  : 

Now  in  foul  dirt  he  prostrate  falls, 
And  picks  mad  quarrels  with  the  walls  ; 
Nor  shall  his  drouzie  sense,  that  lies  asleep, 
Be  well  recovered  in  a  night  of  sleep. 


A  Catch. 
E  not  thou  so  foolish  nice    >  / 

As  to  be  invited  twice  ; 

Why  should  we  men  more  incite    \A\  C^^pTV 
Than  their  own  sweet  appetite  ? 

E  3    '  Shall 


Merry  Drollerie, 

Shall  savage  things  more  freedom  have 
Than  nature  unto  women  gave  ? 
The  Swan,  the  Turtle,  and  the  Sparrow, 
Bill  a  while,  and  then  take  marrow ; 
They  bill,  they  kiss,  what  else  they  do, 
Come  bill  and  kiss,  and  I'll  shew  you. 


Pirn's  Anarchy. 

ASke  me  no  more,  why  there  appears 
Dayly  such  troops  of  Dragooneers, 
Since  it  was  requisite,  you  know, 
They  rob  cum  privilegio. 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  the  Gule  confines 
Our  Hierarchy  of  best  Divines, 
Since  some  in  Parliament  agree 
Tis  for  the  subjects  liberty. 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  from  Blackwall 
Great  tumults  come  into  Whitehall, 
Since  it  was  allowed,  by  free  consent, 
The  Priviledges  of  Parliament. 

Aske  me  not,  why  to  London  comes 
So  many  Musquets,  Pikes  and  Drums, 
So  that  we  fear  They'll  never  cease, 
'Tis  to  Protect  the  Kingdoms  peace. 

Aske 


Complete.  7 1 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  little  Finch 
From  Parliament  began  to  winch, 
Since  such  as  dare  to  hawk  at  Kings 
Can  easie  clip  a  Finches  wings. 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  Strajfortfs  dead, 
And  why  they  aim'd  so  at  his  head, 
Faith,  all  the  reason  I  can  give, 
Tis  thought  he  was  too  wise  to  live. 

Aske  me  no  more,  where's  all  the  plate, 
Brought  in  at  such  an  easie  rate, 
They  it  back  to  the  Owners  soon  will  bring 
In  case  it  fall  not  to  the  King. 

Aske  me  not,  why  the  house  delights 
>  Not  in  our  two  wise  Kentish  Knights  : 
Their  Counsel  never  was  thought  good, 
Because  it  was  not  understood. 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  Lasey  goes 
To  seize  all  rich  men  as  his  foes, 
Whilst  Country  Farmers  sigh  and  sob, 
Yeomen  may  beg  when  Kings  do  rob. 

Aske  me  no  more,  by  what  strange  sight 
Londons  Lord  Maior  was  made  a  Knight, 
Since  there's  a  strength,  not  very  far, 
Hath  as  much  power  to  make,  as  mar. 

E  4  Aske 


72  Merry  Drollerie, 

Aske  me  no  more,  why  in  this  age 
I  sing  so  sharp  without  a  cage  : 
My  answer  is,  I  need  not  fear, 
Since  England  doth  the  burden  bear. 

Aske  me  no  more,  for  I  grow  dull, 
Why  Hotham  kept  the  town  otHull : 
This  answer  I  in  brief  do  sing, 
All  things  were  thus  when  Pirn  was  K- 


A  Sessions  of  wit. 

A  Session  was  held  the  other  day, 
And  Apollo  was  at  it  (they  say :) 
The  Laurel,  hath  been  so  long  preserv'd, 
Was  now  to  be  given  to  him  best  deserv'd. 

Therefore  the  Wits  of  the  Town  came  thither, 
JTwas  strange  to  see  how  they  flock  together  ; 
Each,  strongly  confident  of  his  own  way, 
That  day  thought  to  carry  the  Laurel  away. 

There  was  Selden,  and  he  sate  close  to  the  Chair ; 
Wainman  not  far  off,  which  was  very  fair  ; 
Sands  with  Townsend,  for  they  kept  no  order ; 
Digby  and  Shillingworth  a  little  further. 

There 


* 

Th 


Complete.  73 

There  was  Lucans  Translator  too,  and  he 
That  made  God  speak  so  big  in's  Poetry ; 
Selwin,  and  Waller,  and  Bartlets  both  the  Brothers, 
•ack  Vaughan,  and  Porter,  and  divers  others. 


The  first  that  broke  silence  was  good  old  Ben, 
Prepar'd  before  with  Canary  wine, 
And  he  told  them  plainly,  he  deserv'd  the  Bayes, 
For  his  were  calPd  Works  when  others  were  call'd 

(Plaies. 

Bid  them  remember  how  he  had  purged  the  Stage 
Of  errours  that  had  lasted  many  an  Age  ; 
And  he  hoped  they  did  not  think  the  Silent  woman, 
The  Fox,  and  the  Alchymist  out-done  by  no  man. 

Apollo  stopt  him  there,  and  bid  him  not  go  on, 
'Twas  merit,  he  said,  and  not  presumption, 
Must  carry't ;  at  which  Ben  turn'd  about, 
And  in  great  choler  offered  to  go  out. 

But  those  that  were  there  thought  it  not  fit 
To  discontent  so  ancient  a  wit, 
And  therefore  Apollo  calPd  him  back  again, 
And  made  him  mine  Host  of  his  own  newe  Inne. 

Tom  Carew  was  next,  but  he  had  a  fault 
That  would  not  well  stand  with  a  Laureat  ; 
His  Muse  was  hide-bound,  and  the  Issue  ofs  brain 
Was  seldom  brought  forth  but  with  trouble  and  pain. 

And 


74  Merry  Drollerie, 

And  all  that  were  present  there  did  agree 
A  Laureat  Muse  should  be  easie  and  free  ;     (Grace 
Yet  sure  'twas  not  that,  but  'twas  thought  that  his 
Consider 'd  he  was  well  he  had  a  cup-bearers  place. 

Will  Davenant  ashamed  of  a  foolish  mischance, 
That  he  had  got  lately  traveling  into  France, 
Modestly  hoped  the  handsomness  of 's  Muse 
Might  any  deformity  about  him  excuse. 

And  surely  the  company  would  have  been  content 
If  they  could  have  found  any  precedent, 
But  in  all  there  Records,  either  in  Verse  or  Prose, 
There  was  not  one  Laureat  without  a  Nose. 

To  Will  Bartlet  sure  all  the  Wits  meant  well, 
But  first  they  would  see  how  his  Snow  would  sell : 
Will  smiPd,  and  swore  in  their  Judgments  they  went 
That  concluded  of  merit  upon  success.  (less, 

Suddenly  taking  his  place  agen, 
He  gave  way  to  Selwin,  who  straight  stept  in  ; 
But,  alas,  he  had  been  so  lately  a  wit 
That  Apollo  himself  scarce  knew  him  yet. 

Toby  Mathews,  (pox  on  him)  what  made  he  there  ? 
Was  whispering  nothing  in  some  bodies  eare ; 
When  he  had  the  honour  to  be  nam'd  in  Court, 
But,  Sir,  you  may  thank  my  Lady  Carlisle  for't. 

For 


Complete.  75 

For  had  not  her  Character  furnish'd  you  out 
With  something  of  handsome,  without  all  doubt, 
You  and  the  sorry  Lady-Muse  had  been 
In  the  number  of  those  that  were  not  let  in. 

In  from  the  Court  two  or  three  come  in,. 
And  they  brought  Letters  (forsooth)  from  the  Queen: 
'Twas  discreetly  done  ;  for  if  th'  had  come 
Without  them,  th'had  scarce  been  let  into  the  room. 

This  made  a  dispute,  for  'twas  plain  to  be  seen 
Each  man  had  a  mind  to  gratifie  the  Queen : 
But  Apollo  himself  could  not  think  it  fit :  (wit. 

There  was  difference,  he  said,  betwixt  fooling  and 

Suckling  was  next  calFd  but  durst  not  appear, 
But  straight  one  whisper'd  Apollo  in  the  ear, 
That  of  all  men  living  he  car'd  not  for't, 
He  lov'd  not  the  Muses  so  well  as  his  sport. 

And  priz'd  black  eyes,  or  a  lucky  hit 
At  bowls,  above  all  the  Trophies  of  wit ; 
But  Apollo  was  angry,  and  publickly  said, 
Twere  fit  that  a  fine  were  set  upon's  head. 

Wat  Montague  now  stood  forth  to  his  trial, 
And  did  not  so  much  as  suspect  a  denial : 
But  wise  Apollo  asked  him  first  of  all, 
If  he  understood  his  own  Pastoral. 

For 


j6  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  if  he  could  do't,  'twould  plainly  appeare 
He  understood  more  than  any  man  there, 
And  did  merit  the  Bayes  above  all  the  rest, 
But  the  Monsieur  was  modest,  and  silence  confest. 

During  these  troubles,  in  the  croud  was  hid 
One  that  Apollo  soon  miss'd,  little  Cid : 
And  having  spide  him,  call'd  him  out  of  the  throng, 
And  advis'd  him  in  his  ear  not  to  write  so  strong. 
Then  Murre  was  summon'd,  but  it  was  urg'd,  that  he 
Was  chief  already  of  another  company. 

Hales  sate  by  himself,  most  gravely  did  smile, 
To  see  them  about  nothing  keep  such  a  coile  ; 
Apollo  had  spide  him,  but  knowing  his  mind, 
Past  by,  and  call'd  Faulkland,  that  sate  just  behind. 

But  he  was  of  late  so  grown  with  divinity, 
That  he  had  almost  forgot  his  Poetry, 
Though,  to  say  the  truth  (and  Apollo  did  know  it) 
He  might  have  been  both  his  Priest  and  his  Poet. 

At  length,  who  but  an  Alderman  did  appear, 
At  which  Will  Davenant  began  to  swear ; 
But  wiser  Apollo  bade  him  draw  nigher  : 
And  when  he  had  mounted  a  little  higher, 

He  openly  declared,  that  it  was  a  good  sign 
Of  good  store  of  Wit,  to  have  good  store  of  Coyn  : 

An 


Complete.  77 

And  without  a  Syllable  more  or  less  said, 
He  put  the  Laurel  on  the  Aldermans  head. 

At  this  the  Wits  were  in  such  a  maze, 
That  for  a  good  while  they  did  nothing  but  gaze 
One  upon  another ;  not  one  in  the  Place 
But  had  a  discontent  writ  at  large  in  his  face. 

Only  the  small  ones  cheared  up  again, 
Out  of  hope,  as  'twas  thought,  of  borrowing ; 
But  sure  they  were  out,  for  he  forfeits  his  crown 
When  he  lends  to  any  Poet  about  the  Town. 


The  way  to  wooe  a  zealous  Lady. 

I   Came  unto  a  Puritan  to  wooe, 
And  roughly  did  salute  her  with  a  kiss ; 
She  shov'd  me  from  her  when  I  came  unto ; 
Brother,  by  yea  and  nay  I  like  not  this  : 
And  as  I  her  with  amorous  talk  saluted, 
My  Articles  with  scripture  she  confutedr 

She  told  me  that  I  was  too  much  prophane, 
And  not  devout  neither  in  speech  nor  gesture  : 
And  I  could  not  one  word  answer  again, 
Nor  had  not  so  much  grace  to  call  her  Sister ; 
For  ever  something  did  offend  her  there, 
Either  my  broad  beard,  hat,  or  my  long  hair. 

My 


78  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

My  Band  was  broad,  my  'Parrel  was  not  plain, 
My  Points  and  Girdle  made  the  greatest  show ; 
My  Sword  was  odious,  and  my  Belt  was  vain, 
My  Spanish  shoee  was  cut  too  broad  at  toe ; 
My  Stockings  light,  my  Garters  ty'd  too  long, 
My  Gloves  perfum'd,  and  had  a  scent  too  strong, 

I  left  my  pure  Mistris  for  a  space, 

And  to  a  snip  snap  Barber  straight  went  I ;: 

I  cut  my  hair,  and  did  my  corps  uncase 

Of  'Parrels  pride  that  did  offend  the  eye ;. 

My  high  crown'd  Hat,  my  little  beard  also, 

My  pecked  Band,  my  Shooes  were  sharp  at  toe; 

Gone  was  my  Sword,  my  Belt  was  laid  aside, 
And  I  transformed  both  in  looks  and  speech ;; 
My  Tarrel  plain,  my  Cloak  was  void  of  pride, 
My  little  Skirts,  my  metamorphos'd  breech, 
My  Stockings  black,  my  Garters  were  ty'd  shorter, 
My  Gloves  no  scent ;  thus  march'd  I  to  her  Porter. 

The  Porter  spi'd  me,  and  did  lead  me  in, 
Where  his  sweet  Mistris  reading  was  a  chapter: 
Peace  to  this  house,  and  all  that  are  therein, 
Which  holy  words  with  admiration  wrapt  her ; 
And  ever,  as  I  came  her  something  nigh, 
She,  being  divine,  turn'd  up  the  white  of  th'  eye. 

Quoth 


Complete.  79 

Quoth  I,  dear  sister,  and  that  lik'd  her  well ; 

I  kist  her,  and  did  Pass  to  some  delight, 

She,  blushing,  said,  that  long-tail'd  men  would  tell ; 

Quoth  ![,]  I'll  be  as  silent  as  the  night  ; 

And  lest  the  wicked  now  should  have  a  sight 

Of  what  we  do,  faith,  I'll  put  out  the  light. 

O  do  not  swear,  quoth  she,  but  put  it  out, 
Because  that  I  would  have  you  save  your  oath, 
In  truth,  you  shall  but  kiss  me  without  doubt ; 
In  troth,  quoth  I,  here  will  we  rest  us  both ; 
Swear  you[,]  quoth  she,  in  troth  ?  Had  you  not  sworn 
I'd  not  have  don't[,]  but  took  it  in  foul  scorn. 


The  Apostate  World. 

GOod  Lord  what  a  pass  is  this  world  brought  to, 
Most  men  have  forgot  to  be  honest  and  Just ; 
When  shall  one  find  a  friend  to  be  honest  and  true 
That  with  his  chief  secret  he  only  may  trust ; 
If  thou  hadst  abundance  of  money  to  spend, 
Then  every  man  will  be  accounted  thy  friend  ;       (cay 
Find  one  that  will  love  you  where  wealth  doth  de- 

You'd  as  soon  find  a  needle  in  a  bottle  of  hay. 

True  friendship  is  now  adaies  cunning  and  waining, 
And  every  one  learns  to  shift  for  himselfe  ; 
What  man  will  not  falsifie  friendship  for  gaining, 

And 


8o  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

And  wrong  his  best  friend  for  lucre  of  pelf? 
There  was  once  a  time  when  a  friend  for  a  friend 
Would  ever  be  constant  his  life  for  to  spend  ; 
But  he  that  will  find  such  a  friend  at  this  day, 
Had  as  good  seek,  &c. 

There's  many  will  hang  on  you  while  you  have  coyn 
And  swear  they  will  venture  their  lives  for  your 
But  to  any  task,  if  you  them  enjoyn,  (sake  : 

They'll  swear  and  protest  they'll  it  undertake, 
But  if  by  mishap  you  be  brought  to  a  Pinch,     (inch, 
Though  they  promise  an  ell,  'twill  scarce  prove  an 
But  find  out  a  friend  that  will  do  and  not  say, 
You'd  as  soon  find,  6^:. 

For  in  this  age  one  dare  not  trust  one  another, 
For  love  is  not  known,  but  extremity  shews, 
For  one  Brother  dares  hardly  trust  another 
With  any  thing  but  what  he  cares  not  who  knows ; 
If  thou  hast  not  money  nor  means  of  thine  own, 
In  thine  extremity  true  friendship  is  known ; 
If  thou  livest  in  debt,  find  one  that  will  good  say, 
You'd  as  soon  find,  &c. 

There's  many  a  Lawyer  will  promise  his  Client 
To  finish  his  business  in  the  next  Term  ; 
To  finger  your  money  he'll  shew  himself  plient, 
And  vows  that  nothing  but  truth  he'll  explain ; 
And  thus  he  will  feed  you  with  hopes  to  do  well, 

When 


Complete.  8 1 


When  he  means  as  false  as  the  divel  of  hell ; 
Find  one  that  will  finish  your  Suit  in  a  day, 
You'd  as  soon  find,  &c. 

And  thus  you  may  see  what  an  intricate  matter 
It  is  to  find  truth  in  a  World  of  deceit ; 
It  is  counted  but  complement  to  face  and  to  flatter  [,] 
And  politick  wisdom  to  cozen  and  cheat ; 
Plain  dealing  is  a  Jewel,  but  he  that  doth  use  it, 
They  say,  dies  a  beggar,  therefore  men  refuse  it ; 
Find  one  that  will  deal  upright,  nay,  good  Sir  stay, 
And  first  find  a  needle  in  a  bottle  of  hay. 


Lust  described. 

WAlking  abroad  in  a  morning, 
Where  Venus  her  self  was  adorning ; 
I  heard  a  bird  sing  to  welcome  the  Spring, 
Their  musick  so  sweetly  according. 

I  listened  unto  them, 

Me  thoughts  a  voice  did  summon  ; 

I  spide  an  old  whore,  and  a  lusty  young  rogue 

Together  as  they  sate  a  wooing. 

She  tickled  him  under  the  sides 

To  make  their  courage  coming ; 

She  hoysted  her  thighs,  and  she  twinkled  her  eyes ; 

'Twas  a  dainty  fine  curious  old  woman. 

F  If 


82  Merry  Drollerie, 

If  Venus  and  Mars  so  stout 

Had  joyned  together  in  battle, 

There  could  not  have  been  more  claps  &  more  bangs, 

For  he  made  her  old  buttocks  to  rattle. 

She  gave  him  a  lift  for  his  thrust, 
And  catcht  him  as  he  was  a  coming ; 
And  ever  she  cry'd,  you  lusty  young  rogue 
Will  you  murder  a  poor  old  woman. 

She  found  that  his  spirits  were  spent, 
And  that  he  was  no  more  a  coming, 
She  gave  him  five  shillings  to  make  a  recruit, 
And  was  not  this  a  fine  lusty  old  woman  ? 


Eighty  Eight. 

IN  Eighty  Eight,  e'er  I  was  born, 
As  I  can  well  remember, 
In  August  was  a  Fleet  of  Spain, 
A  month  before  September. 

Lisbona,  civill  Pwtingal, 

Tolledo,  and  Germado,  [Grenada] 

They  all  did  meet,  and  made  a  Fleet, 

And  call'd  it  the  Armado. 

They 


Complete.  83 

They  came  with  great  provision, 

As  Muttons,  Beef  and  Bacon  ; 

Some  said,  some  Ships  were  full  of  Whips, 

But  I  think  they  were  mistaken. 

There  was  a  little  man  in  Spain, 
He  shot  well  in  a  Gun  a, 
Don  Pedro  hight,  as  black  a  Wight 
As  the  Knight  of  the  Sun  a. 

They  had  ten  men  to  one  of  ours, 
And  yet  to  do  more  harm  a, 
They  said  they  would  not  come  alone, 
But  with  the  Prince  o£  Parma. 

King  Philip  made  him  General, 
And  bid  him  not  to  stay  a, 
But  to  destroy  both  man  and  boy, 
And  so  to  come  away  a. 

When  they  had  saiFd  along  the  seas, 
And  anchor'd  before  Dover, 
Our  English  men  did  boord  them  then, 
And  cast  the  Rascals  over. 

At  Tilbury  there  lay  the  Queen, 
What  would  you  more  desire  ? 
For  whose  sweet  sake  Sir  Francis  Drake 
Did  set  them  all  on  fire. 

F  2  They 


84  Merry  Drollerie, 

They  ran  away  about  England, 
About  Scotland  also  a, 
Till  they  came  to  the  Irish  coasts, 
Where  they  had  many  a  blow  a. 

The  Irish  man  did  ding  them  then 
And  one  man  slew  threescore  a, 
And  had  they  not  then  run  away, 
They  surely  had  slain  more  a. 

Then  let  them  never  brag  nor  boast, 

For  if  they  come  again  a 

They  had  best  take  heed,  lest  that  they  speed 

As  they  did  they  know  when  a. 


N 


Loves  Follies. 
Ay  out  upon  this  fooling  for  shame 


Nay  Pish,  nay  fie,  in  faith  you  are  to  blame 
Nay  come,  this  fooling  must  not  be  ; 
Nay  pish,  nay  fie,  you  tickle  me. 

Nay  out  upon't  in  faith  I  dare  not  do't ; 
I'll  bite,  I'll  scratch,  I'll  squeak,  I'll  cry  out ; 
Nay  come,  this  fooling  must  not  be  ; 
Nay  pish,  nay  fie,  you  tickle  me. 

You 


Complete. 

Your  Buttons  scratch  me,  you  ruffle  my  band, 
You  hurt  my  thighs,  Pray  take  away  your  hand ; 
The  door  stands  ope  that  all  may  see, 
Nay  pish,  nay  fie,  you  tickle  me. 

When  you  and  I  shall  meet  in  a  place 
Both  together  face  to  face, 
I'll  not  cry  out,  nay  you  shall  see, 
Nay  pish,  nay  fie,  you  tickle  me. 

But  now  I  see  my  words  are  but  vain, 
For  I  have  done,  why  should  I  complain  ? 
Nay  to't  again,  the  way  is  free, 

Since  it's  no  more,  pray  tickle  me. 


A  Song. 

IF  every  woman  were  serv'd  in  her  kind, 
And  every  man  had  his  due  desert, 
The  rooms  in  Bridewel  would  be  well  lin'd, 
And  a  Coach  could  not  pass  the  streets  for  a  Cart ; 
Yet  I  am  a  little  vexed  at  the  heart, 
And  fain  I  would  have  my  grief  to  be  known, 
The  Punck  would  have  me  to  play  a  kind  part, 
And  to  father  a  child  that  is  none  of  mine  own  : 

Full  seventeen  months  I  crost  the  seas, 
Mean  time  I  was  crost  as  much  on  the  land, 

F  3  For 


86  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  all  this  while  she  sate  at  her  ease, 
And  had  her  companions  at  her  command ; 
There  waTnever  a  Gallant  but  gave  her  his  hand, 
And  said,  it  was  pitty  she  should  lie  alone, 
And  now  they  would  have  me  subscribe  to  a  bond, 
And  to  father  a  child,  &c. 

Let  every  Father  take  care  For  his  Child, 
And  seek  to  provide  for  the  Mother  and  that ; 
Although  I  am  a  Buck,  I  am  not  so  wild 
To  naile  up  my  horns  for  another  mans  hat ; 
I'll  never  grieve,  but  let  it  pass, 
Since  'tis  my  fortune  to  be  overthrown, 
Although  I  am  an  Oxe,  I'll  ne'er  be  an  Ass 
To  father  a  child,  &c. 

A  man  may  be  made  a  Cuckold  by  chance, 
And  put  out  another  mans  child  to  nurse, 
And  hoodwinke  his  Barn  with  ignorance,       [?  Horns 
But  he  that's  a  Wittall  is  ten  times  worse ; 
And  he  that  knows  his  cross  and  his  curse, 
And  still  will  be  led  by  a  Strumpet's  moan, 
May  sit  and  sell  horns  at  Brittains  Burse ; 
And  father  a  child,  &c. 

And  if  you  will  be  my  Judge, 

Is  not  that  man  wondrous  base, 

To  be  another  mans  slave  and  his  drudge, 

And  sell  all  his  credit  for  disgrace ; 

Nor 


Complete. 

lor  was  I  ever  sprung  from  that  race, 
?o  call  that  my  seed  another  hath  sown ; 
vror  I'll  never  look  King  Charles  in  the  face, 

If  I  father  a  child  that's  none  of  my  own. 


The  Fire  on  London  Bridge,  &c. 

SOme  Christian  people  all  give  ear, 
Unto  the  grief  ot  us, 

Caus'd  by  the  death  of  three  children  dear, 
The  which  it  hapned  thus. 

And  eke  there  befell  an  accident, 

By  fault  of  a  Carpenters  Son, 
Who  to  Saw  chips  his  sharp  Axe  lent, 

Woe  worth  the  time  may  Lon. 

May  London  say,  woe  worth  the  Carpenter, 

And  all  such  ^/^-head  fools, 
Would  he  were  hang'd  up  like  a  Serpent  here, 

For  jesting  with  edg-tools. 

For  into  the  chips  there  fell  a  spark, 

Which  put  out  in  such  flames, 
That  it  was  known  into  Southwark, 

Which  lives  beyond  the  Thames. 


88  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  Loe  the  Bridge  was  wondrous  high 

With  water  underneath, 
O'er  which  as  manyyfrte  fly, 

As  birds  therein  do  breath. 

And  yet  the  fire  consum'd  the  Bridg, 

Not  far  from  place  of  landing, 
And  though  the  building  was  full  big, 

\\,fell  down  not  with  standing. 

And  eke  into  the  water  fell, 

So  many  Pewter  dishes, 
That  a  man  might  have  taken  up  very  well, 

Both  boyld  and  roasted  Fishes. 

And  thus  the  Bridge  of  London  Town, 

For  building  that  was  sumptuous, 
Was  All  by  fire  Half  burnt  down, 

For  being  too  contumptuous. 

And  thus  you  have  all,  but  half  my  Song, 

Pray  list  to  what  comes  after ; 
For  now  I  have  coord  you  with  the  Fire, 

I'll  warm  you  with  the  Water. 

I'll  tell  you  what  the  Rivers  name  is,    . 

Where  these  children  did  slide-a, 
It  was  fair  Londons  swiftest  Thames, 

That  keeps  both  time  and  Tide-a. 

All 


Complete.  89 

All  on  the  tenth  of  January, 

To  the  wonder  of  much  People, 
Twas  frozen  o'er  that  well  'twould  bear, 

Almost  a  Country  Steeple. 

Three  children  sliding  thereabouts 

Upon  a  place  too  thin, 
That  so  at  last  it  did  fall  out, 

That  they  did  all /a//  in. 

A  great  Lord  there  was  that  laid  with  the  King, 
And  with  the  King  great  wager  makes  : 

But  when  he  saw  he  could  not  win, 

He  sigh't,  and  would  have  drawn  stakes. 

He  said  it  would  bear  a  man  for  to  slide, 

And  laid  a  hundred  pound  ; 
The  King  said  it  would  break,  and  so  it  did, 

For  three  children  there  were  drown'd. 


Of  which  ones  head  was  from  his  Should 

Ers  stricken,  whose  name  was  John, 

Who  then  cry'd  out  as  loud  as  he  could, 
O  Lon-a,  Lon-a,  London. 

Oh  !  tut-tut  turn  from  thy  sinful  race, 

Thus  did  his  speech  decay : 
I  wonder  that  in  such  a  case, 

He  had  no  more  to  say. 

And 


90  Merry  Drollerie, 

And  thus  being  drown'd,  alack,  alack, 
'  The  water  ran  down  there  throats, 

And  stopt  their  breaths  three  hours  by  the  Clock, 
Before  they  could  get  any  Boats. 

Ye  Parents  all  that  children  have, 

And  ye  that  have  none  yet ; 
Preserve  your  children  from  the  grave, 

And  teach  them  at  home  to  sit. 

For  had  these  at  a  Sermon  been, 

Or  else  upon  dry  ground, 
Why  then  I  would  never  have  been  seen, 

If  that  they  had  been  drowrid. 

Even  as  a  Huntsman  ties  his  dogs, 
For  fear  they  should  go  from  him, 

So  tye  your  children  with  severities  clogs, 
Untye-^um  and  you'l  undo-um. 

God  bless  our  Noble  Parliament, 

And  rid  them  from  all  fears, 
God  bless  all  th'  Commons  of  this  Land, 

And  God  bless  some  o'  th'  Peers. 


Complete.  9 1 


A  Catch. 

\ 

COme  my  Daphne,  come  away, 
We  do  waste  the  Christal  day  ; 
Tis  Strephon  calls  :  What  would  my  Love  ? 
Come  follow  to  the  Mirtle  Grove, 

Where  Venus  shall  Prepare 

New  Chaplets  for  thy  hair. 
Were  I  shut  up  within  a  tree, 
I'd  rent  the  bark  to  follow  thee  ; 

My  shepheard  make  haste, 

The  Minutes  fly  too  fast. 

In  those  cooler  shades  will  I, 

Blind  as  Cupid,  kiss  thine  eye ; 

On  thy  bosome  there  I'll  stray, 

In  that  warm  snow  who  would  not  lose  their  way ; 

We'll  laugh,  and  leave  the  World  behind  ; 
The  Gods  themselves  that  see, 
Shall  envie  thee  and  me         [,] 

And  never  find  such  joys 

When  they  embrace  a  Deity. 

The 


92  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 


The  Beggar ',  a  Catch. 

CAst  your  Caps  and  cares  away, 
This  is  the  Beggars  holliday ; 

At  the  crowning  of  our  King 

Thus  we  dance,  and  thus  we  sing ; 
Be  it  peace,  or  be  it  war, 
Here  at  liberty  we  are, 
And  enjoy  our  peace  and  rest, 
To  the  Field  we  are  not  prest, 

Nor  be  raised  in  the  Town 

To  be  troubled  with  a  Gown. 

In  this  world  behold  and  see, 
Where's  so  happy  a  King  as  he  ? 
Where's  the  Nation  lives  so  free, 
Or  so  merry  as  do  we  ? 

Hang  up  the  Officers  we  cry, 

And  your  Masters  we  defie ; 

When  the  Subsidy  daies  encreas'd 

We  are  not  a  penny  seased ; 
Nor  will  any  go  to  law 
With  the  Beggar  for  a  straw : 

All  which  happiness,  he  brags 

He  doth  owe  unto  his  rags. 

The 


Complete.  93 


The  Scotch  War. 

WHen  first  the  Scottish  War  began        (&  Pike, 
The  English  man,  we  did  trapan,  with  pellit 
The  bonny  blythe  and  cunning  Scot  (like  ; 

Had  then  a  plot,  which  they  did  not  well  smell,  it's 
Although  he  could  neither  write  nor  read, 
Yet  our  General  Lashly  cross'd  the  Tweed 
With  his  gay  gangh,  of  Blew-caps  all, 
Along  we  marcht  with  our  General : 
We  took  New-Castle  in  a  trice, 
But  we  thought  it  had  been  paradice, 
They  did  look,  all  so  bonny  and  gay, 
Till  we  took  all,  their  Pillage  away. 

Then  did  we  streight  to  plundering  fall  (day  ; 

Of  great  &  small,  for  we  were  all  most  Valiant  that 

And  Jinny  in  a  Satten  Gown,  the  best  in  the  Town, 

From  heel  to  Crown  was  gallant  and  gay ; 

Our  silks  and  sweets  made  such  a  smother, 

Next  day  we  knew  not  one  another  : 

For  lockie  did  never  so  shine, 

And  linny  was  never  so  fine, 

A  geud  faith  a  gat  a  ged  Beaver  then, 

But  it's  beat  into  a  blew-cap  agen 

By  a  Red-coat,  that  did  still  cry,  Jlag, 

And  a  red  snowt  a  the  Deel  aw  the  Crag. 

The 


94  Merry  Drollerie, 

The  English  raised  an  Army  streight  (well  ' 

With  mickle  state,  and  we  did  wait  to  face  them  as 

Then  every  valiant  musquet-man  put  fire  in  pan, 

And  we  began  to  lace  them  as  well ; 

But  before  the  sparks  were  made  a  Cole 

They  did  every  man  pay  for  his  Pole ; 

Then  their  bought  land  we  lent  them  agen, 

Into  Scotland  we  went  with  our  men ; 

We  were  paid  by  all,  both  Peasant  and  Prince, 

But  I  think  we  have  soundly  paid  for  it  since, 

For  our  Silver  is  wasted,  Sir,  all, 

And  our  Silks  hang  in  Westminster  Hall. 

The  godly  Presbyterian,  that  holy  man, 

The  war  began  with  Bishop  and  King, 

Where  we  like  waiters  at  a  Feast,  (thing,, 

But  not  the  least  of  all  the  guest,  must  dish  up  the 

We  did  take  a  Covenant  to  pull  down 

The  Cross,  the  Crosier,  and  the  Crown, 

With  the  Rochet  the  Bishop  did  bear, 

And  the  Smock  that  his  Chaplain  did  wear : 

But  now  the  Covenant's  gone  to  wrack, 

They  say,  it  looks  like  an  old  Almanack, 

For  lockie  is  grown  out  of  date, 

And  lenny  is  thrown  out  of  late. 

I  must  confess  the  holy  firk  did  only  work 
Upon  our  Kirk  for  silver  and  meat, 

Which  made  us  come  with  aw  our  broods, 

Venter 


Complete.  95 

Venter  our  bloods  for  aw  your  goods,  to  pilfer  and 

But  we  see  what  covetousness  doth  bring,          (cheat ; 

For  we  lost  our  selves  when  we  sold  our  King; 

And  alack  now  and  welly  we  cry, 

Our  backs  mow  and  bellies  must  dye ; 

We  fought  for  food,  and  not  vain-glory, 

And  so  there's  an  end  of  a  Scottish  mans  story ; 

I  curse  all  your  Silver  and  Gold, 

Aw  the  worst  tale  that  ever  was  told. 

The  Zealous  Puritan. 

MY  Bretheren  all  attend, 
And  list  to  my  relation  : 
This  is  the  day[,]  mark  what  I  say, 
Tends  to  your  renovation ; 
Stay  not  among  the  Wicked, 
Lest  that  with  them  you  perish, 
But  let  us  to  New-England  go, 
And  the  Pagan  People  cherish ; 

Then  for  the  truths  sake  come  along,  come  along, 

Leave  this  place  of  Superstition  : 

Were  it  not  for  we,  that  the  Brethren  be, 

You  would  sink  into  Perdition. 

There  you  may  teach  our  hymns 
Without  the  Laws  controulment : 

We  need  not  fear  the  Bishops  there, 

No 


96  Merry  Drollerie, 

Nor  Spiritual-Courts  inroulment ; 
Nay,  the  Surplice  shall  not  fright  us, 
Nor  superstitious  blindness  \ 
Nor  scandals  rise  when  we  disguise, 
And  our  Sisters  kiss  in  kindness ; 
Then  for  the  truths  sake,  &c. 

For  Company  I  fear  not, 
There  goes  my  Cosin  Hannah; 
And  Ruben,  so  perswades  to  go 
My  Cosin  Joyce,  Susanna, 
With  Abigal  and  Faith, 
And  Ruth,  no  doubt,  comes  after ; 
And  Sarah  kind,  will  not  stay  behind, 
My  Cosin  Constance  Daughter ; 
Then  for  the  truth,  &c 

Now  Tom  Tyler  is  prepared, 
And  the  Smith  as  black  as  a  coal ; 
Ralph  Cobler  too  with  us  will  go, 
For  he  regards  his  soul ; 
And  the  Weaver,  honest  Simon, 
With  Prudence,  Jacobs  Daughter, 
And  Sarah,  she,  and  Barbary 
Professeth  to  come  after ; 
Then  for  the  truth,  &c. 

When  we,  that  are  elected, 
Arrive  in  that  fair  Country, 

Even 


Complete.  97 


Even  by  our  faith,  as  the  Brethren  saith, 
We  will  not  fear  our  entry ; 
The  Psalms  shall  be  our  Musick, 
And  our  time  spent  in  expounding, 
Which  in  our  zeal  we  will  reveal 
To  the  brethrens  joy  abounding ; 
Then  for  the  truths  sake,  &v. 


A  Merry  Song. 

COme  let  us  drink,  the  time  invites, 
Winter  and  cold  weather, 
For  to  pass  away  long  nights, 

And  to  keep  good  Wits  together ; 
Better  far  than  Cards  or  dice, 

Or  Isaacs  ball,  that  quaint  device, 
Made  up  of  fan  and  feather. 

Of  great  actions  on  the  seas 

We  will  ne'er  be  Jealous  ; 
Give  us  liquor  that  will  please, 

And  'twill  make  us  braver  fellows 
Than  the  bold  Venetian  Fleet 

When  the  Turks  and  they  do  meet 
Within  the  Dardanellows. 

G  Mahomet 


98  Merry  Drollerie, 

MaJwmet  was  no  Divine, 

But  a  senseless  Widgeon, 
To  forbid  the  use  of  wine 

Unto  those  of  his  religion  : 
Falling  sickness  was  his  shame, 

And  his  throne  will  have  the  same 
For  all  his  whispering  pigeon. 

Sack  is  the  Princes  only  guard, 

If  he  dare  but  try  it  : 
No  designs  were  ever  hard 

Where  the  Subjects  use  to  ply  it ; 
And  three  Constables,  at  most, 

Are  enough  to  quell  an  host 
That  so  disturbs  our  quiet. 

Vallenchyn,  that  famous  Town, 
Stands  the  French  mans  wonder, 

Water  it  inclos'd  to  drown, 

And  to  cut  the  Troops  asunder; 

Turain  cast  a  helpless  look, 
Whilst  the  crafty  Spaniard  took 

La  Ferte  and  his  plunder. 

Therefore  water  we  disdain, 

Mankinds  adversary, 
Once  it  made  the  Worlds  whole  frame 

In  the  Deluge  to  miscarry  : 
Nay  the  enemy  of  joy, 

Seeks 


Complete.  99 

Seeks  with  envy  to  destroy, 
And  murder  good  Canary. 

See  the  Squibs,  and  hear  the  Bells 

The  fifth  day  of  November, 
The  Preacher  a  sad  story  tells, 

And  with  horror  doth  remember, 
How  some  dry-brain'd  Traitor  wrought 

Plots  that  might  have  ruine  brought 
On  King  and  every  member. 

We  that  drink  have  no  such  thoughts, 

Black  and  void  of  reason, 
We  take  care  to  fill  our  Vaults 

With  good  wine  for  every  season  : 
And  with  many  a  chearfull  cup 

We  blow  one  another  up, 
And  that's  our  only  treason. 


Philiday  and  Coridon. 

IN  the  merry  month  of  May, 
On  a  morn  by  break  of  day, 
Forth  I  walk  the  wayes  so  wide, 
When  as  May  was  in  her  pride. 
There  I  spide  all  alone 
Philiday  and  Coridon. 

G  2  Much 


ioo  Merry  Drollerie, 

Much  ado  there  was  I  wot, 

He  could  love,  but  she  could  not, 

His  love  he  said  was  ever  true, 

Nor  was  mine  e're  false  to  you. 

He  said  he  had  lov'd  her  long, 
She  said  love  should  do  no  wrong. 

Coridon  would  kiss  her  then, 
She  said  maids  must  kiss  no  men ; 
Till  they  kiss  for  good  and  all, 
Then  she  made  the  shepherds  call 

All  the  Gods  to  witness  south,        [sooth,] 
Ne'er  was  lov'd  a  fairer  youth. 

Then  with  many  a  pretty  Oath, 
As  yea,  and  nay,  and  faith  and  troath, 
Such  as  silly  shepherds  use 
When  they  will  not  love  abuse. 
Love  that  had  been  long  deluded, 
Was  with  Kisses  sweet  concluded. 
And  Philiday  with  Garlands  gay 
Was  crown'd  the  Lady  of  the  May. 

On  the  Preface  to  Gondibert. 

ROom  for  the  best  Poets  heroick, 
If  you'l  believe  two  Wits  and  a  Stoick  ; 
Down  go  the  Iliads,  down  go  the  Eneidos, 
All  must  give  place  to  the  Gondibertiados. 

For 


Complete.  101 


?or  to  Homer  and  Virgil  he  has  a  just  Pique, 
Because  one  writ  in  Latin[,]  the  other  in  Greek  ; 
Besides  an  old  grudge  (our  Criticks  they  say  so) 
With  Ovid,  because  his  Sirname  was  Naso : 
'f  Fiction  the  fame  of  a  Poet  thus  raises, 
What  Poets  are  you  that  have  writ  his  praises ; 
But  we  justly  quarrel  at  this  our  defeat, 
You  give  us  a  stomach,  he  gives  us  no  meat. 
A  Preface  to  no  Book,  a  Porch  to  no  house  : 
Here  is  the  Mountain,  but  where  is  the  Mouse  ; 
But,  Oh,  America  must  breed  up  the  Brat 
From  whence  'twill  return  a  West-Indy  Rat. 
For  Will  to  Virginia  is  gone  from  among  us 
With  thirty  two  slaves,  to  plant  Mundungus. 


The  Wedding. 

I'LL  tell  thee  Dick  where  I  have  been, 
Where  I  the  rarest  things  have  seen, 
O  things  beyond  compare  ! 
Such  sights  as  these  cannot  be  found 
In  any  part  of  English  ground, 
Be  it  at  Wake  or  Faire. 

At  Charing- Cross,  hard  by  the  way 
Where  we,  thou  know'st,  did  sell  our  hay, 
There  is  a  house  with  staires ; 

G  3  Where 


IO2  Merry  Drollerie, 

Where  I  did  see  them  coming  down 
Such  folk  as  are  not  in  the  Town, 
Forty  at  least  in  paires. 

One  of  them  was  pestilent  fine, 

His  beard  no  bigger  though  than  mine, 

Walk'd  on  before  the  rest : 
Our  Landlord  look'd  like  nothing  to  him, 
The  King,  God  bless  him,  'twould  undo  him 

Should  he  go  still  so  drest. 

At  Course-a-park,  without  all  doubt, 
He  should  have  there  been  taken  out 

By  all  the  maids  of  the  Town  ; 
Though  lusty  Roger  there  had  been, 
Or  little  George  upon  the  Green, 

Or  Vincent  of  the  Crown. 

But  wot  you  what,  the  youth  was  going 
To  make  an  end  of  all  his  wooing, 

The  Parson  for  him  staid  : 
But  by  your  leave,  for  all  your  haste 
He  did  not  wish  so  much  all  past, 

Perchance,  as  did  the  maid. 

The  maid,  and  thereby  lies  a  tale, 
For  such  a  maid  no  Whitson-Ale 
Could  ever  yet  produce ; 

No 


Complete.  103 


No  Grape,  that's  kindly  ripe,  can  be 
So  round  so  plump,  so  soft  as  she, 
Nor  half  so  full  of  juice. 


Hi 
W< 

Ar 


Her  fingers  were  so  small,  the  ring 
buld  not  stay  on  which  they  did  bring, 

It  was  too  wide  a  peck ; 
And  to  say  truth,  for  out  it  must, 
It  lookt  like  a  great  Collar  just 

About  our  young  colts  neck. 


Her  feet  beneath  her  Petticoat, 
Like  little  Mice,  stole  in  and  out, 

As  If  they  fear'd  the  light : 
But  O  she  dances  such  a  way, 
No  Sun  upon  an  Easter  day 

Is  half  so  fine  a  sight. 

He  would  have  kist  her  once  or  twice, 
But  she  would  not,  she  was  so  nice 

She  would  not  do't  in  sight ; 
And  then  she  look't,  as  who  would  say, 
I  will  do  what  I  list  to  day, 

And  you  shall  do't  at  night. 

Her  cheeks  so  fair  a  white  was  on, 
As  none  darst  make  comparison, 
Who  sees  them  is  undon  ; 

G  4  For 


IO4  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  streaks  of  red  were  mingled  there, 
Such  as  are  on  a  Catharine  Pear 
That  side  that's  next  the  Sun. 

Her  mouth  so  small,  when  she  doth  speak, 
Thou'dst  swear  her  teeth  her  words  do  break 

That  they  might  passage  get : 
But  O  she  handles  so  the  matter, 
They  come  as  good  as  ours,  or  better, 

And  are  not  spoyPd  one  whit. 

Her  lips  so  red,  and  one  so  thin, 
Compar'd  to  that  was  next  her  chin. 

Some  Bee  had  stung  it  newly ; 
But  Dick*  her  eyes  so  grac'd  her  face   [?  guard]  j 
I  durst  no  more  upon  her  Gaze 

Than  on  the  sun  in  July. 

If  wishing  had  been  any  sin 

The  Parsons  self  had  guilty  been ; 

She  look'd  that  day  so  purely ; 
And  did  the  Youth  so  oft  the  feat 
At  night,  as  some  did  in  conceit, 

It  would  have  spoyPd  him  surely. 

Passion,  oh  me  how  I  run  on, 
There's  that  that  would  be  thought  upon, 
I  trow  beside  the  Bride  : 

Tl 


Complete.  105 

The  business  of  the  Kitchin  great, 
For  it  is  fit  that  men  should  eat, 
Nor  was  it  there  deny'd. 

Just  in  the  nick  the  Cook  knockt  thrice, 
And  all  the  Waiters  in  a  trice 

His  summons  did  obey ; 
Each  serving-man  with  dish  in  hand 
March't  boldly  up  like  our  Train-band, 

Presented,  and  away. 

Now  hats  fly  off  and  Youths  carrouse, 
Healths  first  go  round,  and  then  the  house, 

The  Brides  came  thick  and  thick  ; 
And  when  'twas  nam'd  another  health, 
Perhaps  he  made  it  hers  by  stealth, 

And  who  could  help  it  Dick  ! 

O'  th'  sudden,  up  they  rise  and  dance, 
Then  sit  again,  and  sigh  and  glance, 

Then  dance  again  and  kiss  : 
Thus  several  waies  the  time  did  pass, 
While  every  woman  wish'd  her  Place, 

And  every  man  wish'd  his. 

By  this  time  all  were  stollen  aside 
To  counsell  and  undress  the  Bride, 
But  that  he  must  not  know ; 

But 


io6  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

But  it  was  thought  he  guess'd  her  mind, 
And  did  not  mean  to  stay  behind 
Above  an  hour  or  so. 

When  in  he  came,  Dick,  there  she  lay, 
Like  new-fain  snow,  melting  away, 

'Twas  time,  I  trow,  to  part ; 
Kisses  were  now  the  only  stay, 
Which  soon  she  gave,  as  who  would  say, 

God  b'wy  with  all  my  heart. 

But  just  as  heavens  would  have,  to  Cross  it, 
In  came  the  Bridemaids  with  the  posset, 

The  Bridegroome  eat  in  spight : 
Or  had  he  left  the  women  to  't, 
It  would  have  cost  two  hours  to  do  7t, 

Which  were  too  much  that  night. 

At  length  the  Candle's  out,  and  now 
All  that  they  had  not  done  they  do, 

What  that  is,  who  can  tell  ? 
But  I  believe  it  was  no  more 
Than  thou  and  I  have  done  before 

With  Bridget  and  with  NeL 


Complete.  107 


A  Song. 

HOw  happy  is  the  prisoner  who  conquers  his  fate 
With  silence,  &  ne'er  on  bad  fortune  complains, 
But  carelesly  plaies  with  his  keyes,on  the  grate, 
And  makes  sweet  consort  with  them  &  his  chains  ; 
He  drowns  care  with  Sack,  when  his  heart  is  opprest, 
And  makes  his  heart  float  like  a  Cork  in  his  brest. 

Chor.    Then  since  we  are  all  slaves  who  Islanders  be, 
And  our  land  is  a  large  Prison  enclos'd  with  the  sea, 
We'll  drink  off  the  Ocean,  and  set  our  selves  free, 
For  man  is  the  Worlds  Epitomie. 

Let  tyrants  wear  Purple,  deep  dy'd  in  the  blood 
Of  those  they  have  slain,  their  Scepter  to  sway ; 
If  our  consciences  be  clear,  and  our  titles  be  good 
To  the  rags  that  hang  on  us,  we  are  richer  than  they  ; 
We  drink  up  at  night  what  we  can  beg  or  can  borrow, 
And  sleep  without  plotting  for  more  the  next  morrow. 

Come  Drawer,  fill  each  man  a  pint  of  Canary, 
This  brimmer  shall  bid  all  our  sences  good  night ; 
When  old  Aristotle  was  frolick  and  merry, 
With  the  Juyce  of  the  Grape  he  turn'd  stagarite ; 
Copernicus  once  in  a  drunken  fit  found 
By  the  course  of  his  brains  that  the  world  went  round. 

'Tis 


io8  Merry  Drolleriey 

'Tis  Sack  makes  our  faces  like  Comets  to  shine, 
And  gives  us  a  beauty  beyond  complexions  masque  ; 
Diogenes  fell  so  in  love  with  his  wine 
That  when  'twas  all  out  he  dwelt  in  the  Cask  : 
He  liv'd  by  the  scent  in  that  close  wainscoat  room, 
And  dying,  requested  the  tub  for  his  Tombe. 

Though  the  Usurer  watch  o'er  his  bags  and  his  house, 
To  keep  that  from  robbers  he  rackt  from  his  debtors  ; 
Each  midnight  cries  thieves  at  the  noise  of  a  mouse, 
Then  looks  if  his  bags  are  fast  bound  in  their  fetters  ; 
When  once  he's  grown  rich  enough  for  a  state-plot, 
In  one  hour  Buff  plunders  what  threescore  years  got. 

Let  him  never  so  privately  muster  his  gold, 

His  Angels  will  there  intelligence  be 

How  close  they  are  prest  in  their  Canvas  hold, 

And  long  that  state  souldiers  should  set  them  all  free  ; 

Let  him  pine  and  be  hang'd  we  will  merrily  sing, 

Who  have  nothing  to  lose,  may  cry,  God  bless  the 

(King. 

Chor.     Then  since  we  are  all  slaves  who  Islanders  be, 
And  our  land  a  large  prison  enclos'd  with  the  sea  ; 
We'll  drink  off  the  Ocean,  and  set  our  selves  free, 
For  man  is  the  worlds  Epitomie. 


The 


Complete.  109 


The  Devil  transformed. 

I    Met  with  the  divel  in  the  shape  of  a  Ram, 
I  then  over  and  over  the  sowgelders  ran  ;    [came] 
I  rose,  and  I  haltred  him  fast  by  the  horns, 
I  stabb'd  him  softly,  as  you  would  pick  out  corns, 
Nay,  [Baa]  quoth  the  divel,  with  that  out  he  slunk, 
And  left  us  the  Carkass  of  a  Mutton  that  stunk. 

I  chanc'd  to  ride  forth  some  mile  and  a  half, 
Where  I  heard  he  did  live  in  disguise  of  a  Calf ; 
I  bound  him,  and  I  gelt  him  ere  he  did  any  evill, 
For  he  was  at  his  best  but  a  young  sucking  divel ; 
Meaw[!]  yet  he  cry'd,  and  forth  he  did  steal, 
And  this  was  sold  after  for  excellent  veal. 

Some  half  a  year  after,  in  the  shape  of  a  Pig, 
I  met  with  the  rogue,  and  he  look'd  very  big, 
I  caught  him  by  the  leg,  laid  him  down  on  a  log, 
Ere  a  man  told  forty  twice  I  made  him  a  hog ; 
[Owgh  !]  Oh,  quoth  the  divel,  and  gave  such  a  yerk, 
That  a  Jew  was  converted  and  did  eat  of  the  Porke. 

In  womans  attire  I  met  him  most  fine, 
At  first  sight  I  thought  him  some  Angel  divine  : 
But  viewing  his  crab  face  I  fell  to  my  trade, 
I  made  him  forswear  ever  acting  a  maide ; 

Meaw 


no  Merry  Drollery, 

Meaw,  quoth  the  divel,  and  so  ran  away, 
And  hid  him  in  a  Fryers  old  weed,  as  they  say. 

I  walked  along,  and  it  was  my  good  chance 

To  meet  with  a  Grey-coat  that  was  in  a  trance, 

I  grip'd  him  then  speedily,  and  I  whipt  off  his  Cods, 

Twixt  his  head  and  his  breech  I  left  little  odds  ; 

O  quoth  the  divil,  the  hurt  thou  hast  done 

Thou  still  wilt  be  curst  for  by  many  a  [wojman. 

Miseries  of  humane  Life. 

THE  World's  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  man 
Less  than  a  span  ; 
In  his  conception  wretched  from  his  wombe, 

So  to  his  tombe ; 
Curst  from  the  Cradle  and  brought  up  to  years 

With  care  and  fears  ; 
Who  then  to  frail  mortality  shall  trust, 
Limns  but  in  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust. 

Now  since  with  sorrow  man  lives  here  opprest, 

What  life  is  best  ? 
Courts  are  but  only  superficial  Schools 

To  dandle  fools  ; 
The  rural  parts  are  turn'd  into  a  den 

Of  savage  men ; 

And  where's  a  City  from  all  vice  so  free, 
But  may  be  term'd  the  worst  of  all  the  three. 

Domestick 


Complete.  1 1 1 

Domestic  cares  afflict  the  husbands  bed, 

Or  pains  his  head  ; 
Those  that  live  single  take  it  for  a  curse, 

Or  do  things  worse  ;  (moan, 

Some  would  have  Children,  those  that  have  them 

Or  wish  them  gone  ; 

What  is  it  then  to  have,  or  have  no  wife, 
But  single  thraldome,  or  a  double  strife. 

Our  own  affection  still  at  home  to  please 

Is  a  disease ; 
To  cross  the  seas  to  any  forraign  soyl 

Is  dangerous  toyl ; 
Wars  with  their  noise  affright  us,  when  they  cease 

We  are  worse  in  peace ; 
What  then  remains,  but  that  we  still  should  cry, 
Not  to  be  born,  or  being  born  to  dye. 


A  Cambridge  Droll. 

THe  Proctors  are  two  and  no  more, 
Then  hang  them  that  makes  them  three  : 
The  Taverns  are  but  foure, 
I  wish  they  were  more  for  me, 

Chor.     For  three  merry  boyes,  and  three  merry  boyes, 
And  three  merry  boys  are  we. 

We'll 


H2  Merry  Drollerie, 

We'll  make,  if  our  numbers  mix, 

The  Muses  triple  trine, 

For  two  and  four  make  six, 

As  all  men  do  divine ; 

For  two  three  and  four  makes  nine. 

The  Myter  no  more  shall  sink, 
Though  Pym  himself  were  there, 
For  that  were  Popery  to  think 
That  Puritans  dare  come  there, 
For  catholic  Sack  is  there. 

The  Dolphins  were  numbered  never, 

As  all  men  plainly  see  [;] 

For  I  am  sure  for  ever 

The  Dolphin  shall  swim  free  ; 

And  that's  enough  for  me. 

The  three  tuns  are  forgot 
When  few  do  go  to  see  ; 
But  there's  a  tun  behind 
For  him,  for  thee,  and  for  me, 
To  make  us  frolick  and  free. 

But  if  the  Doctors  droop 
In  whom  our  number  dies, 
As  the  Arches  put  us  in  hope 
They  are  not  like  to  rise, 
And  wine  shall  make  us  wise. 

The 


Complete.  113 

The  wise  men  they  were  seven, 

I  wish  they  were  more  for  me, 

The  Muses  they  were  nine, 

The  Worthies  three  times  three, 

And  three  merry  boyes,  and  three  merry  boyes, 

And  three  merry  boyes  are  we. 


Resolved  not  to  part. 

Man.    TV    /T  Y  Mistris,  whom  in  heart  I  loved  long, 

i  V  A  Her  unkind  words,  alas,  have  done  me 
Loe  where  she  comes,  I  mean  her  love  to  try  :  (wrong, 
Oh  stay  a  While  and  hear  her  kind  reply. 

My  faithful  friend,  whom  I  esteemed  so  deer, 
Rejected  is,  and  gone  I  know  not  where ; 
Forlorn  I  live,  away  all  joyes  are  fled, 
I  lost  my  Love,  alas,  my  heart  is  dead. 

I  will  go  sail  into  some  Forraign  Land, 
To  France  or  Flanders  I'll  go  out  of  hand  : 
When  I  come  there,  to  strangers  I'll  complain, 
And  say,  my  Love  hath  me  unkindly  slain. 

Wo.  If  into  France  or  Flanders  you  do  go, 
I'll  not  stay  here,  but  follow  thee  also  ; 
If  false  report  abroad  there  thou  dost  tell, 
I'll  check  thee  for't,  and  say,  thou  didst  not  well. 

H  Ma. 


1 14  Merry  Drollerie, 

Ma.  Else  to  the  Wilderness  full  fast  I'll  high, 
Among  wild  beasts  there  I  mean  to  dye, 
Where  Wolves,  and  Bears  and  other  Creatures, 
The  Elephant  and  Unicorn  with  their  odd  features. 

Wo.  O  stay  at  home,  sweet  heart,  and  go  not  there, 
For  those  wild  beasts  will  thee  in  pieces  tear ; 
If  that  I  should  behold  them  suck  thy  blood       (good. 
Thou  shouldst  have  mine,  sweet  heart,  to  do  thee 

Ma.  I  would  I  were  all  in  the  raging  seas, 
Or  in  some  Bark  to  go  even  where  it  please, 
Where  comfort  none,  alas,  is  to  be  found, 
And  every  hour  in  danger  to  be  drown'd. 

Ma.  I  would  I  were  all  in  the  lofty  skies, 
So  far  from  ground  as  any  Eagle  flies, 
For  to  fall  down  to  ease  me  of  my  pain, 
That  I  might  die,  but  die  to  live  again. 

Wo.  If  in  the  lofty  sky  thou  should'st  remain, 
I'd  soar  so  high,  thy  love  for  to  obtain  : 
And  like  the  Eagle  keep  thee  from  all  harms, 
That  thou  shouldst  fall  in  no  place  but  mine  arms. 

Ma.  Thus  many  wishes  have  I  wisht  in  vain, 
But  none  of  these  can  ease  me  of  my  pain  ; 
This  marshall  ponyard  that  shall  end  all  grief, 
Shall  ease  my  heart  that  fmdeth  no  relief. 

Wo. 


Complete.  115 

Wo.  O  stay  at  home,  good  heart,  let  it  not  die, 
Thy  life  I  love,  thy  death  I  do  defie : 
Come  live  in  love,  and  so  thou'lt  banish  pain, 
Take  a  good  heart,  and  I  will  love  again, 

Ma.  Go  lusty  lads,  go  you  the  Musick  fetch, 
^our  nimble  legs  and  joynts  you  shall  out  stretch  ; 
While  others  dance  and  caper  in  the  streets, 
We'll  dance  at  home  the  shaking  of  the  sheets. 


The  Power  of  Money. 

not  the  silver  nor  Gold  for  it  self, 
That  makes  men  adore  it,  but  'tis  for  its  power  : 
For  no  man  does  doat  upon  pelf  because  pelf, 
But  all  Court  the  Lady  in  hope  of  her  dower  : 
Fhe  wonders  that  now  in  our  daies  we  behold ; 
Done  by  the  irresistible  power  of  gold, 
3ur  Zeal,  and  our  Love,  and  Allegiance  do  hold. 

(Crowns  ; 

Fhis  purchaseth  Kingdoms,  Kings,  Scepters,  and 
kVins  battels,  and  conquers  the  Conquerors  bold ; 
Fakes  Bulwarks,  and  Castles,  and  Cities,  &  Towns, 
Vnd  our  prime  Laws  are  writ  in  letters  of  Gold ; 
Tis  this  that  our  Parliament  calls  and  creates, 
Purns  Kings  into  keepers,  and  Kingdoms  to  States, 
\nd  peopledoms  these  into  highdomes  translates. 

H  2  This 


1 1 6  Merry  Drollerie, 

This  made  our  black  Synod  to  sit  still  so  long, 
To  make  themselves  rich,  by  making  us  poor ; 
This  made  our  bold  Army,  so  daring  and  strong, 
And  made  them  turn  them,  like  Geese  out  of  door  ; 
'Twas  this  made  our  Covenant-makers  to  make  it, 
And  this  made  our  Priests  for  to  make  us  to  take  it, 
And  this  made  both  Makers  and  Takers  forsake  it. 

(tees  and  'Strators, 

'Twas  this  spawned  the  dunghil  Crew  of  Commit- 
Who  live  by  picking  the  crockadile  Parliaments  gums[;] 
This  first  made,  &  then  prospered  rebels  &  traitors, 
And  made  gentry  of  those  that  were  the  nations  scums[;] 
This  herald  gives  arms  not  for  merit,  but  store  [,] 
And  gives  coats  to  those  that  did  sell  coats  before, 
If  their  pockets  be  but  lin'd  well  with  argent  &  ore. 

This,  plots  can  devise,  and  discover  what  they  are ; 
This,  makes  the  great  Fellons  the  lesser  condemn ; 
This,  sets  those  on  the  Bench,  that  should  stand  at 

(the  Bar, 

Who  judge  such,  as  by  right  ought  to  execute  them ; 
Gives  the  boysterous  Clown  his  insufferable  pride, 
Makes  beggars,  and  fools,  and  Usurpers  to  ride, 
Whiles  ruin'd  Propriators  run  by  their  side. 

Stamp  either  the  Arms  of  the or  the 

St.  George  or  the  Breeches, or  O.  P. 

The  Cross  or  the  Fiddle,  'tis  all  the  same  thing ; 

This,  this  is  the  Queen  whosoe'er  the  King  be  ; 

This 


Complete.  1 1 7 


This,  lines  our  Religion,  builds  Doctrine  and  Truth, 
With  zeale  and  the  Spirit  the  factious  endueth, 
To  club  with  Saint  Catharine,  or  sweet  sister  Ruth. 

(plead 

'Tis  money  makes  Lawyers  give  judgment,  or 
On  this  side,  or  that  side,  on  both  sides  or  neither ; 
This  makes  young  men  Clerks  that  can  scarce  write 

(or  read, 
And  spawns  arbitrary  orders  as  various  as  the 

(weather; 

This  makes  your  blew  Lectures  pray  preach  &  prate, 
Without  reason  or  sence  against  Church,  King,  or 

(State, 
To  shrew  the  thin  lining  of  his  twice-covered  pate. 

(Esquires 
'Tis  money  makes  Earls,  Lords,  Knights,  and 

Without  breeding,  descent,  wit,  learning  or  merit ; 
This  makes  ropers,  &  ale-drapers,  Sheriffs  of  shires, 
Whose  trade  is  not  so  low,  nor  so  base  as  their  spirit  ; 
This  Justices  makes,  and  no  wise  one  we  know, 
Furr'd  Aldermen  tpo,  and  Maiors  also  ;  (go. 

This  makes  the  old  wife  trot,  and  makes  the  mare  to 

This  makes  your  blew  aprons  right  worshipfull ; 
And  for  this  we  stand  bare,  and  before  them  do  fall ; 
They  leave  their  young  heirs  well  fleec'd  with  wooll 
Whom  we  must  call  Squires,  and  they  pay  all ; 

Who  with  beggarly  souls,  though  their  bodies  be 

(gawdy, 
H  3  Court 


ii8  Merry  Drollerie, 

Court  the  pale  chamber-maid,  and  nick-name  her  a 

(Lady, 
And  for  want  of  good  wit  they  do  swear  and  talk 

(bawdy. 

This,  marriage  makes,  'tis  the  Center  of  love, 
It  draws  on  the  man,  and  it  pricks  up  the  woman, 
Birth,  Virtue,  and  parts  no  affection  can  move, 
Whilst  this  makes  a  Lord  stoop  to  the  Brat  of  a 

(Broom  man ; 

This  gives  virtue  and  beauty  to  the  Lasses  that  you 
Makes  women  of  all  sorts  and  ages  to  do  ;  (wooe, 
'Tis  the  soul  of  the  world,  and  the  worldling  too. 

This  procures  us  whores,  hawks,  hounds,  and  hares ; 
Tis  this  keeps  your  groom  and  your  groom  keeps 

(your  gelding ; 

This  built  Citizens  wives  as  well  as  their  wares  : 
And  this  makes  your  coy  Lady  so  coming  &  yielding ; 

This  buys  us  good  Sack,  which  revives  like  the 

(spring ; 
Tis  this  your  Poetical  fancies  do  bring ; 

And  this  makes  you  as  merry  as  we  that  do  sing. 


On  Gondibert. 
i 

AFter  so  many  sad  mishaps, 
Of  drinking,  riming,  and  of  claps, 

I  pity  most  thy  sad  relaps. 

That 


Complete.  \  19 


2 

That  having  past  the  souldiers  pains, 
The  States-mens  Arts,  the  sea-mens  gains, 
With  Gondibert^  to  break  thy  brains. 

3- 

And  so  incessantly  to  ply  it, 

To  sacrifice  thy  sleep,  thy  diet, 

Thy  business  ;  and  what's  more  our  quiet 

4- 
And  all  this  stir  to  make  a  story, 

Not  much  superior  to  John  Dory, 
Which  thus  in  brief  I  lay  before  ye. 

5 
All  in  the  land  of  Lombardie, 

A  Wight  there  was  of  Knights  degree, 
Sir  Gondibert  ycleap'd  was  he. 

6 

This  Gondibert  (as  saies  our  Author) 
Got  the  good  will  of  the  Kings  daughter, 
A  shame,  it  seems,  the  divel  ought  her. 

7- 
So  thus  succeeded  his  Disaster, 

Being  sure  of  the  Daughter  of  his  Master, 
He  chang'd  his  Princes  for  a  Playster. 

8. 

Of  person  he  was  not  ungracious, 
Grave  in  debate,  in  Fight  audacious  ; 
But  in  his  Ale  most  pervicacious. 

H  4  And 


I2O  Merry  Drollerie, 

9 

And  this  was  cause  of  his  sad  Fate, 

For  in  a  Drunken-street  Debate 
One  night  he  got  a  broken  Pate. 

10. 

Then  being  cur'd,  he  would  not  tarry, 
But  needs  this  simpling  girle  would  marry 
Of  Astragon  the  Apothecary. 

ii. 

To  make  the  thing  yet  more  Romancie, 
Both  wise  and  rich  you  may  him  fancie  ; 
Yet  he  in  both  came  short  of  Plancy. 

12. 

And  for  the  Damsel,  he  did  wooe  so, 
To  say  the  truth  she  was  but  so-so, 
Not  much  unlike  her  of  Toboso. 

13 
Her  beauty,  though  'twas  not  exceeding, 

Yet  what  in  Face  and  shape  was  needing, 
She  made  it  up  in  Parts  and  Breeding. 

14. 

Though  all  the  Science  she  was  rich  in 
Both  of  the  Dairy  and  the  Kitchin  : 
Yet  she  had  knowledge  more  bewitching. 

15- 
For  she  had  learn'd  her  Fathers  skill, 

Both  of  the  Alimbick  and  the  Still, 
The  Purge,  the  Potion,  and  the  Pill. 

But 


Complete.  121 

16 

But  her  Chief  Talent  was  a  Glister, 
And  such  a  hand  to  administer, 
As  on  the  Breech  hath  made  no  blister, 

So  well  she  handled  Gondbert, 

That  though  she  did  not  hurt  that  part, 

She  made  a  blister  on  his  heart. 

18 

Into  the  Garden  of  her  Father  : 
Garden,  said  I ;  or  Back-side  rather, 
One  night  she  went  a  Rose  to  gather. 

,  J9 

The  Knight  he  was  not  far  behind, 

Full  soon  he  had  her  in  the  wind  ; 

For  Love  can  smell,  though  he  be  blind.) 

20. 

Her  business  she  had  finished  scarcely, 
iVhen  on  a  gentle  bed  of  parsly  /-  £>esunf 

Full  fair  and  soft  he  made  her  Arse-ly.     {  Ccetera. 


Canary  Crowned.       ^  j 

let's  purge  our  brains  from  hops  &  grains 

That  do  smell  of  Anarchy ; 
,et's  chuse  a  King  from  whose  veins  may  spring 
A  sparkling  Progeny ; 

It 


122  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

It  ill  befits  true  wine-bred  wits, 

Whose  flames  are  bright  and  clear, 

To  bind  their  hands  in  dray-mens  bands, 
When  they  might  be  clear ; 

Why  should  we  droop  or  basely  stoop 
To  popular  Ale  or  Beer  ? 

Who  shall  be  King  is  now  the  thing 

For  which  we  all  are  met : 
Clarret  is  a  Prince  that  hath  been  long  since 

In  the  royal  number  set : 
His  face  is  spread  with  warlike  red, 

And  so  he  loves  to  see  men  ; 
If  he  bears  sway,  his  Subjects  they 

Shall  be  as  good  as  freemen  ; 
Yet  here's  the  plot,  almost  forgot, 

He  is  too  much  burnt  by  women. 

By  the  river  Rhine  is  a  valiant  wine 

That  can  all  our  veins  replenish, 
Let  us  then  consent  to  the  government 

Of  the  royal  rule  of  Rhennish  ? 
This  German  wine  will  warm  the  Chine, 

And  frisk  in  every  vein ; 
Twill  make  the  bride  forget  to  chide, 

And  call  him  to't  again  : 
Yet  that's  not  all,  he  is  much  to  small 

To  be  our  Soveraign. 

Whjy 


Complete.  123 

Why  then  let's  think  of  another  drink, 

And  with  votes  advance  it  high : 
Let's  all  proclaim  good  Canaries  name, 

Heaven  bless  his  Majesty ; 
He's  a  King  in  every  thing,, 

Whose  nature  doth  renounce  all  ill : 
He  can  make  us  skip,  and  nimbly  trip 

From  the  sealing  to  the  groundsil, 
Especially,  when  Poets  be 

Lords  of  the  Privy  Council. 

But  a  Vintner  he  shall  his  Taster  be, 

There's  no  man  shall  him  let ; 
And  a  Drawer,  that  have  a  good  pallat 

Shall  be  made  Squire  of  the  Gimlet ; 
The  Bar-boyes  shall  be  pages  all, 

A  Tavern  well  prepar'd, 
In  jovial  sort  shall  be  the  Court 

Where  nothing  shall  be  spar'd  ; 
Wine-Porters  shall  with  shoulders  tall 

Be  Yeomen  of  the  Guard. 

If  a  Cooper  we  with  a  red-nose  see 

In  any  part  of  the  Town, 
That  Cooper  shall,  with  Adds  royal, 

Be  Keeper  of  the  Crown, 
Young  Wits  that  wash  away  their  Cash 

In  Wine  and  Recreation, 

Who 


124  Merry  Drollerie, 

Who  hate  dull  Beer  are  welcome  here 
To  give  their  approbation  : 

So  are  all  you  that  will  allow 
Canaries  Coronation. 


Contentment. 

WHat  though  the  ill  times  do  run  cross  to  our 
And  fortune  still  frown  upon  us,          (will, 
Our  hearts  are  our  own,  and  shall  be  so  still, 
A  fig  for  the  plagues  they  lay  on  us ; 
Let  us  take  t'other  Cup  to  chear  our  hearts  up, 
And  let  it  be  Purest  Canary ; 
We'll  ne'er  shrink  nor  care  at  the  Crosses  we  bear, 
Let  them  plague  us  untill  they  be  weary. 

What  though  we  are  made  both  beggars  &  slaves  ; 

Let's  endure  it,  and  stoutly  drink  on't, 

'Tis  our  comfort  we  suffer  'cause  we  won't  be  knaves, 

Redemption  will  come  ere  we  think  on't ; 

We  must  flatter  and  fear  those  that  over  us  are, 

And  make  them  believe  that  we  love  them, 

When  their  tyranny  is  past,  we  can  serve  them  at  last, 

As  they  served  those  have  been  above  them. 

Let  the  Levite  go  preach  for  the  Goose  or  the  Pig, 
To  drink  Wine  at  Christmas  or  Easter : 
The  doctor  may  labour  our  lives  to  new  trig, 

And 


Complete.  125 

And  make  Nature  fast  while  we  feast  her ; 

The  Lawyer  may  bawl  out  his  Lungs  and  his  Gall 

For  Plaintiff,  and  for  the  Defendant, 

At  his  Book  the  Scholar  lie,  while  with  Plato  he  die 

With  an  ugly  hard  word  at  the  end  on't. 

Then  here's  to  the  man  that  delights  in  sol  fa, 
For  Sack  is  his  only  Rozin, 
A  load  of  hey  ho  is  not  worth  a  ha  ha, 
He's  a  man  for  my  money  that  draws  in ; 
Then  a  pin  for  the  muck,  and  a  pin  for  ill  luck, 
Tis  better  be  blithe  and  frolick, 
Than  sigh  out  our  breath,  and  invite  our  own  death 
By  the  Gout,  or  the  Stone,  or  the  Collick. 

: 


L 


The  Power  of  the  Sword. 
AY  by  your  pleading,  Law  lies  a  bleeding, 


Burn  all  your  Studies  down,  &  throw  away  your 
Small  power  the  Word  has,  &  can  afford  us  (reading  ; 
Not  halfe  so  many  Priviledges  as  the  Sword  has  : 
It  fosters  your  masters,  it  plaisters  disasters, 
And  makes  your  servants,  quickly  greater  than  their 
It  venters,  it  enters,  it  circles,  it  centers,        (Masters  ; 
And  makes  a  Prentice  free  in  spight  of  his  Indentures. 

This  takes  off  tall  things,  and  sets  up  small  things, 
This  masters  Money,  though  Money  masters  all 

(things 
'Tis 


126  Merry  Drollery, 

'Tis  not  in  season  to  talk  of  Reason, 
Or  call  it  legal,  when  the  Sword  will  have  it  treason ; 
It  conquers  the  Crown  too,  the  Furs  &  the  Gown  too ; 
This  set  up  a  Presbyter,  and  this  pull'd  him  down  too ; 
This  subtill  Deceiver  turn'd  Bonnet  to  Beaver, 
Down  drops  a  Bishop,  and  up  starts  a  Weaver. 

This  fits  a  lay-man  to  preach  and  to  pray  man, 
'Tis  this  can  make  a  Lord  of  him  that  was  a  dray- 
Forth  from  the  dull  pit  of  Follies  full  pit ;  (man, 

This  brought  an  Hebrew  Ironmonger  to  the  Pulpit, 
Such  pittiful  things  be  more  happier  then  Kings  be  ; 
This  got  the  Herauldry  of  Thimblebee  &  Slingsbee ; 
No  Gospel  can  guide  it,  no  Law  can  decide  it, 
In  Church  or  State  untill  the  Sword  hath  sanctifi'd 

(it. 

Down  goes  the  Law-tricks,  for  from  that  Matrix 
Sprung  holy  Hewsons  power,  and  tumbled  down  St. 
The  sword  prevails  so  highly  in  Wales  too,  (Patricks  ; 
Shinkin  ap  Powel  cries,  and  swears  Cuts-plutter-nails ; 
In  Scotland  this  Waster  did  make  such  disaster,   (too ; 
They  sent  their  money  back  for  which  they  sold  their 

Master ; 

It  batter'd  so  their  Dunkirk,  and  did  so  the  Don  firke 
That  he  is  fled,  and  swears,  the  devil  is  in  Dunkirke. 

He  that  can  tower  him  o'er  him  that  is  lower, 
Would  be  but  thought  a  fool  to  put  away  his  power ; 

Take 


Complete.  1 27 

"ake  books  and  rent  'um,  who  would  invent  'um, 
Vhen  as  the  Sword  replies,  negatur  argumentum  ? 
rour  grand  Colledge  Butlers  must  stoop  to  your 
There's  not  a  Library  living  like  the  cutlers ;    (sutlers, 
lie  bloud  that  is  spilt,  sir,  hath  gaind  all  the  guilt,  sir, 
lius  have  you  seen  me  run  the  Sword  up  to  the 

(hilts  Sir. 


A  Medly  of  Nations. 

The  Scots. 

I  Am  a  bonny  Scot,  Sir,  my  name  is  mickle  John, 
'Twas  I  was  in  the  Plot,  Sir,  when  first  the  war 

(begun : 

left  the  Court  one  thousand  six  hundred  forty  one, 
But  since  the  flight  at  Woster-fi$\t  we  all  are  undone  ; 
serv'd  my  Lord  &  Master,  when  as  he  lig'd  at  home, 
But  since  by  a  sad  disaster,  he  receiv'd  his  doom,] 
Our  Cause  did  shrink,  God's  bread,  I  think 

The  Deel's  got  in  his  room  : 
He  no  man  fears ;  but  stamps  and  stares 

Through  all  Christendom. 
[  have  travelPd  mickle  ground 
Since  I  came  from  Worcester  Pound, 
I  have  gang'd  a  gallant  round 

Through  all  our  neighbouring  Nations, 
And  what  their  opinions  are 

Jnto  you  I  shall  declare, 

Of 


128  Merry  Dr oiler ie, 

Of  the  Scotch  and  English  War, 

And  their  approbations ; 
We  were  beaten  Tag  and  Rag, 

Foot  and  Leg,  Wem  and  Crag ; 
Hark,  I  hear  the  Dutchmen  brag, 

And  begin  to  bluster. 

The  Dutch. 

GOds  Sacrament,  shall  Hogen  mogen  States 
Strike  down  their  Topsailes  unto  puny  powers  ; 
Ten  hundred  tun  of  divels  damn  the  fates 

If  all  their  ships  and  goods  do  not  prove  ours ; 
Since  that  bloudy  wounds  delight  them, 
Tantara  rara  let  the  Trumpet  sound, 
Let  Vantrump  go  out  and  fight  them, 

Eldest  states  should  first  be  crown'd  [;] 

English  Schellums  fight  not  on  Gods  side. 
But  alas,  they  have  given  our  Flemish  Boats  such  a 
That  we  shall  be  forced  to  retreat ;  (broad-side, 

See  the  French-man  cometh  in  compleat. 


B 


The  French. 
Egar  Monsieur  'Tis  much  in  vain 


For  Dutchland,  France,  or  Spain 

To  cross  the  English  Nation  ; 
They  are  now  grown  so  strong, 
The  divel  ere  it  be  long 

Must 


Complete.  1 29 

Must  learn  the  English  Tongue ; 

'Tis  better  that  we  should  combine, 

And  sell  them  wine, 

And  learn  of  them  to  make  a  Lady  fine ; 
learn  of  them  to  trip  and  mince, 

To  kick  and  wince, 
or  by  the  Sword  we  never  shall  convince, 
>ince  every  Brewer  there  can  beat  a  Prince. 

The  Spaniard. 

\  1[  T  Hat  are  the  English  so  quarrelsome  grown, 
V  V     That  they  cannot  of  late  let  their  Neigh- 
nd  shall  a  great  and  a  Catholick  King     (bours  alone  ? 
,et  his  Scepter  be  controul'd  by  a  Sword  or  a  Sling  ? 

Or,  shall  Austria  endure 

Such  affronts  for  to  be  ? 

No,  we'll  tumble  down  their  power, 

As  you  shall  Senior  see. 

The  Welch. 

rAffie  was  once  a  Cod-a-mighty  of  Wales, 
But  her  Cosin  O.  P.  was  a  Creature, 
!ome  into  her  Country,  Cods-splutter-anails, 
Her  take  her  welch-hook  and  her  beat  her ; 
'er  eat  up  her  Sheese,  Turkey  and  Geese, 
Her  Pig  and  her  Capon  did  die  for't, 

i  Ap 


130  Merry  Dr  oiler  ie, 

Ap  Robert,  ap  Evan,  ap  Morgan,  ap  Stephen, 
But  Shinkin  and  Powel  did  flie  fort, 


OHone,  O  Hone,  poor  Irish  Shon 
Must  howl  and  cry  : 
Saint  Patrick  help  thy  Country-man, 

Or  faith  and  troth  we  dye  ; 
The  English  still  doth  us  pursue, 

And  we  are  forc'd  to  flee  : 
Saint  Patrick,  help[!]  we  have  no  Saint  but  thee, 
Let's  cry  no  longer,  O  hone,  a  Cram  a  Cree. 

The  English. 

A  Crown,  a  Crown,  make  room. 
The  English  man  doth  come, 
Whose  Valour  is  taller  than  all  Christendom; 
The  Spanish,  French,  and  Dutch,  Scots,  Welch  and 

(Irish  grutch, 

We  fear  not,  we  care  not,  for  we  can  deal  with  such  \ 
When  you  did  begin  in  a  Civil  War  to  waste, 
Ye  thought  that  our  Tillage  your  Pillage  should  be 

(at  last; 
And  when  that  we  could  not  agree,  you  did  think 

(to  share  our  fall, 

But  ye  do  find  it  worse,  ne'er  stir  :  for  we  shall  noose 

(ye  all,' 
A 


Complete.  131 


A  quarrel  betwixt  Tower-Hill  and 
Tyburne. 

I'LL  tell  you  a  Story  that  never  was  told, 
A  tale  that  hath  both  head  and  heel, 
A.nd  though  by  no  Recorder  inrolFd, 
I  know  you  will  find  it  as  true  as  steel. 

When  General  Monck  was  come  to  the  Town, 
A  little  time  after  the  Rump  had  the  rout, 

When  Royalty  rose,  and  Rebellion  fell  down, 
They  say,  that  Tower-hill  and  Tyburn  fell  out 

|)uoth  terrible  Tyburn  to  lofty  tower-hill, 
Thy  longed-for  days  are  come  at  last, 

\nd  now  thou  wilt  dayly  thy  belly  fulfill 
With  King-killers  bloud  whilst  I  must  fast. 

The  High  Court  of  Justice  will  come  to  the  Bar, 
There  to  be  cooked  and  dressed  for  thee, 

Vhilst  I,  that  live  out  of  Town  so  far, 
Must  only  be  fed  by  Fellony. 

!f  Treason  be  counted  the  foulest  act, 

And  a  dying  be  a  Traitors  due, 
''hen  why  should  you  all  the  glory  exact  ? 

You  know,  they  are  fitter  for  me  than  you. 

i  2  To 


132  Merry  Drollerie, 

To  speak  the  plain  truth,  I  have  groan'd  for  them 
For  when  they  had  routed  the  Royal  Root,  (long, 

And  done  the  Kingdom  so  much  wrong, 
I  knew  at  last  they  would  come  to't. 

.  When  Tychburne  sate  upon  the  Bench, 

Twirling  his  Chain  in  high  degree, 
With  a  beardless  Chin,  like  a  Withered  Wench, 

Thought  I,  the  Bar  is  fitter  for  thee. 

But  then,  with  stately  composed  face, 

Tower-hill  to  Tyburne  made  reply 
Do  not  complain,  in  such  a  case 

Thou  shalt  have  thy  share  as  well  as  I. 

There  are  a  sort  of  Mongrils,  which 

My  Lordly  Scaffold  will  disgrace  : 
I  know  Hugh  Peters  his  fingers  itch 

To  make  a  Pulpit  of  the  place. 

But  take  him  Tyburne,  he  is  thine  own, 

Divide  his  quarters  with  thy  knife, 
Who  did  pollute  with  flesh  and  Bone 

The  quarters  of  the  Butchers  wife. 

The  next  among  these  Petticoat-Peers 

Is  Harry  Martin,  take  him  thither, 
But  he  hath  been  addle  so  many  years, 

That  I  fear  he  will  hardly  hang  together. 

There's 


Complete.  133 

Ihere's  Hacker,  zealous  Tom  Harrison  too, 

That  boldly  defends  the  bloudy  deed, 
He  practiseth  what  the  Jesuites  do, 

To  murder  his  King,  as  a  part  of  his  Creed. 

There's  single-ey'd  Hewson  the  Cobler  of  Fate, 

Translated  into  Buff  and  Feather, 
But  bootless  are  all  his  seams  of  State 

When  the  soul  is  ript  from  the  upper-leather. 

Is  this  prophane  mechanical  blood 

For  me  that  have  been  dignifi'd 
IVith  Loyal  Laud  and  Straffords  blood, 

And  holy  Hewet,  who  lately  dy'd. 

)o  thou  contrive  with  deadly  Dun 

To  send  them  to  the  River  of  Stix, 
Tis  Pitty,  since  those  Saints  are  gone ; 

That  Martyrs  and  Murtherers  bloud  should  mix. 

Then  do  not  fear  me  that  I  will 

Deprive  thee  of  that  fatall  Day  : 
Tis  fit  those  that  their  King  did  kill 

Should  hang  up  in  the  Kings  high-way. 

Vty  Priviledge,  though  I  know  it  is  large, 

Into  thy  hand  I  freely  give  it, 
"or  there  is  Cook,  that  read  the  Kings  charge, 

Is  only  fit  for  the  divels  tribute. 

i  3  Then 


134  Merry  Drollerie, 

Then  taunting  Tyburn,  in  great  scorn, 
Did  make  Tower-hill  this  rude  reply : 

So  much  ranke  bloud  my  stomack  will  turn, 
And  thou  shalt  be  sick  as  well  as  I. 

These  Traytors  made  those  Martyrs  bleed 
Upon  the  Block,  that  thou  dost  bear, 

And  there  it  is  fit  they  should  dye  for  the  deed ; 
But  Tower-hill  cryed,  they  shall  not  come  there. 

With  that  grim  Tyburn  began  to  fret, 

And  Tower-hill  did  look  very  grim  : 
And  sure  as  a  club  they  both  would  have  met, 

But  that  the  City  did  step  between. 

The  New  Exchange. 

I'll  go  no  more  to  the  Old  Exchange, 
There's  no  good  Ware  at  all, 
But  I  will  go  to  the  New  Exchange, 

Called  Haberdashers  Hall : 
For  there  are  choice  of  Knacks  and  Toyes 

The  fancy  for  to  please, 
For  men  and  maids,  for  Girls  and  boyes, 

And  a  Trap  for  Lice  and  Fleas ; 
There  you  may  buy  a  Holland  Smock 

That's  made  without  a  gore, 
You  need  not  stoop  to  take  it  up, 
For  it  is  button'd  down  before. 

The 


Complete.  135 

The  finest  Fashions  that  are  us'd, 

And  Powders  that  excell, 
And  all  the  best  and  sweet  perfumes 

To  rarifie  the  smell ; 
The  curious  rich  Vermilion  Paint 

That  maids  of  beauty  hold, 
And  Alabaster  driven  snow 

Is  there  to  be  bought  and  sold. 
And  there,  6°<r. 

The  broad-brim'd  Beaver  which  is  made 

Most  curious,  soft,  and  fine, 
Will  be  a  shadow  in  the  face 

When  as  the  Sun  doth  shine  ; 
Fine  Feathers  and  Ribbons  you  may  have 

For  to  wear  about  the  Crown ; 
Black  Patches  for  the  face  also, 

O,  the  best  in  all  the  Town ; 
For  there,  &c. 

There  is  curious  powder' d  Periwigs, 

And  new-cut  fashion'd  gloves, 
With  Bodkins,  Thimbles,  and  gold  Rings, 

As  men  do  give  unto  their  Loves  \ 
There's  curious  Books  of  Complements, 

And  other  fashions  strange, 
That  never  a  place  in  all  the  Land 

Is  like  the  New  Exchange, 

For  therej  6°^ 

1 4  Great 


136  Merry  Dr oiler ie, 

Great  Flanders-Laces,  large  and  white, 

Are  common  to  be  sold, 
And  Silver  Laces,  very  broad, 

And  some  that's  made  of  Gold ; 
Both  Knives  and  Sizers,  sharp  and  keen, 

And  Kerchies  very  fair, 
Within  the  Change  are  dayly  sold, 

For  pretty  maids  to  wear ; 
There  you,  &c. 

Fine  Silken  Masks,  and  new  French  hoods, 

To  shrowd  the  foulest  face, 
And  every  thing  that  costly  is, 

Is  present  in  this  place  ; 
There's  Spanish  Needles,  Points,  and  Pins, 

And  curious  balls  of  Snow, 
That  doth  perfume  the  stinking  breath, 

And  makes  them  wholsome  too ; 
And  there,  &c. 

There's  precious  Oyles  to  cleanse  the  teeth, 

And  Purges  for  the  Brain, 
And  Antidotes  to  make  the  Nose 

Both  safe  and  sound  again ; 
All  precious  Flowers  may  be  had, 

And  rich  Perfumed  Spice 
To  make  your  houses  all 

To  smell  like  Paradice ; 

And  there,  &c. 

For 


Complete.  137 

For  one  that  hath  a  fluent  tongue 

You  may  have  medi[ci]nes  good  ; 
And  there  is  searching  Physick  too, 

To  purge  corrupted  blood ; 
You  there  may  purifie  the  skin, 

And  cure  the  tickling  itch, 
For  he  is  the  best  esteem'd  of  all 

That  is  both  free  and  rich ; 
And  there,  &c. 

Besides  these  fashions,  strange  and  true, 

There's  other  things  most  rare. 
Which  are  the  witty,  pretty  maids 

All  bound  as  Servants  there  : 
Whose  heavenly  look  invites  the  eyes 

Of  gallant  Gentlemen, 
To  buy  some  curious  Knack  or  Toy, 

And  then  they'll  come  agen  ; 
And  there,  &c. 

The  bravest  Lords  and  Ladies  all 

Do  thither  much  resort, 
And  buy  the  fashions  that  are  us'd, 

And  daily  worn  at  Court ; 
For  Private  profit,  divers  times, 

Some  upstart  Gentlemen  walk, 
And  take  new  fashions  up  on  trust, 

And  nothing  pay  but  Chalk  • 

And  there,  &C. 

Let 


138  Merry  Drollerie, 

Let  me  invite  those  that  intend 

To  follow  fashions  strange, 
With  speed  to  go  to  Londons  pride, 

Now  called  the  Exchange  ; 
Where  choice  and  store  of  things  most  rare 

For  money  may  be  had, 
Besides  a  gallant  bonny  Lass 

To  serve  a  lively  Lad  ; 
There  you  may  have  a  Holland  Smock 

That's  made  without  a  gore, 
You  need  not  stoop  to  take  it  up, 

For  'tis  button'd  down  before. 


A  Medley. 

LEt's  call,  and  drink  the  Cellar  dry, 
Here's  nothing  sober  underneath  the  sky, 
The  greatest  Kingdoms  in  confusion  lye : 
Since  all  the  world  grows  mad,  why  may  not  I  ? 

My  fathers  dead,  and  I  am  free, 
He  left  no  Children  in  the  World,  but  me, 
The  divel  drank  him  down  with  Usury, 
And  I'll  repine  in  Liberality. 

When  first  the  English  War  began 

He  was,  Sir  Reverence,  a  Parliament  man, 

And  gain'd  his  wealth  by  Sequestration, 

Till 


Complete.  139 

Till  Oliver  begun 
|To  come  with  Sword  in  hand,  &  put  him  to  the  run. 

jThen  Royallists,  since  you  are  undone 
iSo  by  the  Father,  come  home  to  the  Son, 
I  Whom  Wine  and  Musick  now  do  wait  upon, 
We'll  tipple  away  a  Tun, 

And  drink  our  Woes  away,  Cavaliers  come  on,  come 

(on. 

Heres  a  health  to  him  that  may 
Do  a  trick  that  shall  advance  us  all, 
And  beget  a  merry  Jovial  day. 

Fill  another  boule  to  he 
That  hath  drank  by  stealth 

His  Landlords  health 
If  his  Spirit  and  his  Tongue  agree. 

The  Land  shall  Celebrate  his  Fame, 
All  the  World  imbalm  his  name, 
No  Royal  Right,  Good  Fellow, 
But  will  Sackifie  the  same ; 
The  Bells  all  merrily  shall  ring, 
All  the  Town  shall  dance  and  sing, 
More  delight  than  I  can  tell  ye, 
When  we  see  this  Royal  Spring 
We'll  have  Ladies  by  the  belly, 
And  a  snatch  at  t'  other  thing. 

Wee's 


140  Merry  Drollerie, 

Wee's  be  bonny  and  jolly, 

Quaff,  Carrouse,  and  Reel : 

We'll  play  with  Peggy  and  Molly, 

Dance,  and  kiss,  and  Feel ; 

Wee's  put  up  the  Bagpipe  and  Organ, 

And  make  the  Welch  Harp  to  play,  (day  ; 

Till  Mauris  ap  Shinkin  ap  Morgan  frisk  on  St.  Taffies 

Hold  out  Ginny,  Piper  come  play  us  a  spring, 

All  you  that  have  Musick  may  tipple,  dance,  and  sing. 

Tet  [Let]  the  French  Monsieur  come  and  swear, 

Intreut  Monsieur,  \Entraii\ 

Dis  is  de  ting  ve  long  to  hear  so  many  year ; 
Dancing  will  be  lookt  upon  ; 
Begar  his  dancing  days  be  done 
When  de  Flower-de-luce  grows 
With  de  English  Crown  and  Rose ; 
Dat's  very  good,  as  we  suppose, 
De  French  can  live  without  a  Nose. 


A  cup  of  old  Stingo. 

T Here's  a  lusty  liquor  which 
Good  fellows  use  to  take, 
It  is  distilPd  with  Nard  most  rich, 

And  water  of  the  Lake ; 
Of  Hop  a  little  quantity, 

And 


Complete.  141 

And  Barm  to  it  they  bring  too. 
Being  barrell'd  up,  they  call  it  a  cup 
Of  dainty  good  old  Stingo. 

'Twill  make  a  man  Indentures  make, 

'Twill  make  a  fool  seem  wise, 
'Twill  make  a  Puritan  sociate, 

And  leave  to  be  precize  : 
;  Twill  make  him  dance  about  a  Cross, 

And  eke  run  the  Ring  too, 
Or  any  thing  that  seemeth  gross, 

Such  vertue  hath  old  Stingo. 

'Twill  make  a  Constable  oversee 

Sometimes  to  serve  a  warrant, 
'Twill  make  a  Baylif  lose  his  Fee, 

Though  he  be  a  Knave- Arrant ; 
'Twill  make  a  Sumner,  though  that  he 

Unto  the  bawd  men  brings  too, 
Sometimes  forget  to  take  his  Fee, 

If  his  head  be  lin'd  with  Stingo. 

'Twill  make  a  Parson  not  to  flinch, 

Though  he  seem  wondrous  holy, 
But  for  to  kiss  a  pretty  Wench, 

And  think  it  is  no  follie ; 
'Twill  make  him  learn  for  to  decline 

The  Verb  that's  called  Mingo, 

.  'Twill 


142  Merry  Drollery, 

'Twill  make  his  Nose  like  Copper  shine, 
If  his  head  be  lin'd  with  stingo. 

'Twill  make  a  Weaver  break  his  yarn, 
That  works  with  right  and  left  foot, 

But  he  hath  a  trick  to  save  himself, 
He'll  say,  there  wanteth  woofe  to't ; 

'Twill  make  a  Taylor  break  his  thread, 
,     And  eke  his  Thimble  ring  too, 

'Twill  make  him  not  to  care  for  bread 
If  his  head  be  lin'd  with  stingo. 

'Twill  make  a  Baker  quite  forget 

That  ever  corn  was  cheap, 
'Twill  make  a  Butcher  have  a  fit 

Sometimes  to  dance  and  leap  ; 
'Twill  make  a  Miller  keep  his  Room, 

A  health  for  to  begin  too, 
'Twill  make  him  shew  his  golden  thumb, 

If  his  head  be  lin'd  with  stingo. 

'Twill  make  an  Hostis  free  of  heart, 

And  leave  her  measures  pinching, 
'Twill  make  an  Host  with  liquor  part, 

And  bid  him  hang  all  flinching ; 
It's  so  belov'd,  I  dare  protest, 

Men  cannot  live  without  it, 
And  where  they  find  there  is  the  best, 

The  Most  will  flock  about  it. 

And 


Complete.  143 

And  finally,  the  beggar  poor, 

That  walks  till  he  be  weary, 
Craving  along  from  door  to  door 

With  pre  commiserere  : 
If  he  do  chance  to  catch  a  touch, 

Although  his  cloaths  be  thin  too, 
Though  he  be  lame  he'll  prove  his  Crutch, 

If  his  head  be  lin'd  with  Stingo. 

Now  to  conclude,  here  is  a  health 

Unto  the  Lad  that  spendeth, 
Let  every  man  drink  off  his  Can, 

And  so  my  Ditty  endeth  ; 
I  willing  am  my  friend  to  pledge, 

For  he  will  meet  me  one  day ; 
Let's  drink  the  Barrel  to  the  dregs, 

For  the  Mault-man  comes  a  Munday. 

Of  the  Nose.  (j 

THree  merry  Lads  met  at  the  Rose 
• 
To  speak  in  the  praises  of  the  Nose  : 

The  Nose  that  stands  in  the  middle  place 

Sets  out  the  beauty  of  the  Face, 
The  Nose  with  which  we  have  begun 

Will  serve  to  make  our  verses  run  : 
Invention  often  barren  grows. 
Yet  still  there's  matter  in  the  Nose. 

The 


H4  Merry  Drollerie, 

The  Nose  his  end's  so  high  a  prize 
That  men  prefer't  before  their  eyes, 

And  no  man  counts  him  for  his  friend 
That  boldly  takes  his  Nose  by  the  end  : 

The  Nose  that  like  Uripus  flowes, 
The  Sea  that  did  the  wiseman  pose, 
Invention  often,  &c. 

The  Nose  is  of  as  many  kinds 
As  Mariners  can  reckon  winds ; 

The  long,  the  short,  the  Nose  displayd, 

The  great  Nose,  which  did  fright  the  maid ; 

The  Nose  through  which  the  Brother-hood, 
Do  parly  for  their  Sisters  good, 
Invention  often,  &c. 

The  flat,  the  sharp,  the  Roman  Snowt, 
The  Hawkes  Nose  circled  round  about, 

The  Crooked  Nose  that  stands  awry, 
The  Ruby  Nose  of  Scarlet  dye, 

The  brazen  Nose  without  a  Face 

That  doth  the  Learned  Colledge  grace, 
Invention  often,  &c. 

The  long  Nose  when  the  teeth  appear 
Shews  what's  a  Clock  if  day  be  clear ; 

The  broad  Nose  stands  in  a  Bucklers  place, 
And  takes  the  blows  for  all  the  face ; 

The 


Complete.  145 

The  Nose  being  plain  without  a  Ridge, 
Will  serve  sometimes  to  make  a  Bridge. 
Invention  often,  &c. 

The  short  Nose  is  the  Lovers  bliss, 

Because  it  hinders  not  a  kiss ; 
The  toteing  Nose,  O  monstrous  thing  ! 

That's  he  that  did  the  bottle  bring, 
And  he  that  brought  the  bottle  hither 

Will  drink  (O  monstrous  !)  out  of  measure. 
Invention  often,  &c. 

The  Firie  Nose  in  Lanthorn  stead 
May  light  his  Master  home  to  bed, 

And  whosoever  this  Treasure  owes 

Grows  poor  in  purse  though  rich  in  Nose  : 

The  Brazen  Nose  that's  o'er  the  gate 
Maintains  full  many  a  Latin  Pate. 
Invention  often,  &c. 

If  any  Nose  take  this  in  snuff, 

And  think  it  more  than  enough ; 
We  answer  them,  we  did  not  fear, 

Nor  think  such  Noses  had  been  here  : 
But  if  there  be,  we  need  not  care, 
A  nose  of  Wax  our  Statutes  are. 
Invention  now  is  barren  grown, 
The  Matter's  out,  the  Nose  is  blown. 

K  The 


130  [146]  Merry  Drollerie, 


The  Angler. 

OF  all  the  recreations  which 
Attend  to  humane  Nature, 
There's  nothing  soars  so  high  a  pitch 

Or  is  of  such  a  stature, 
As  is  the  subtil  Anglers  life 

In  all  mens  approbation, 
For  Anglers  tricks  do  daily  mix 

With  every  Corporation, 
When  Eve  and  Adam  liv'd  in  Love 

And  had  no  cause  of  Jangling, 
The  Divel  did  the  Waters  move, 

The  Serpent  went  to  Angling  : 
He  baits  his  hook  with  god-like  look, 

Thought  he,  this  will  intangle  her, 
The  woman  chops,  and  down  she  drops ; 

The  Divel  was  first  an  Angler. 

Physicians,  Lawyers,  and  Divines 

Are  most  Ingenious  J  anglers, 
And  he  that  tries  shall  find  in  fine 

That  all  of  them  are  Anglers  ; 
Whilst  grave  Divines  do  fish  for  souls, 

Physicians  (like  Cormugeons) 
Do  bait  with  health,  to  fish  for  wealth, 

And  Lawyers  fish  for  Gudgeons. 


Complete.  [147]   131 

A  Politician  too  is  one 

Concerned  in  Piscatory, 
He  writes,  he  fights,  unites  and  slights 

To  purchase  wealth  and  glory ; 
His  Plummet  sounds  the  Kingdoms  bounds 

To  make  the  Fishes  nibble, 
His  Ground-bait  is  a  past  of  lies 

And  he  blinds  them  with  th'  Bible. 

Upon  the  Exchange  'twixt  twelve  and  one 

Meets  many  a  neat  Intangler, 
'Mongst  Merchant-men  not  one  in  ten 

But  is  a  cunning  Angler  : 
For  like  the  Fishes  in  the  Brook 

Brother  doth  swallow  Brother, 
A  Golden-bait  hangs  at  the  Hook, 

And  they  fish  for  one  another. 

A  Shop-keeper  I  next  Prefer 

A  formal  man  in  black  Sir, 
He  throws  his  Angle  every  where, 

And  cryes,  what  is't  you  lack  Sir, 
Fine  Silks  or  Stuffs  or  Hoods  or  Muffs  ? 

But  if  a  Courtier  prove  the  Intangler, 
My  Citizen  must  look  to't  then, 

Or  the  Fish  will  catch  the  Angler. 

A  Lover  is  an  Angler  too, 

And  baits  his  Hooks  with  kisses, 

K2  He 


148  Merry  Drollerie, 

He  plaies,  he  toyes,  he  fain  would  do, 

But  often  times  he  misses; 
He  gives  her  Rings  and  such  fine  things 

A  Fan  and  Muff  and  Night-hood : 
But  if  you  cheat  a  City  pate, 

You  must  bait  your  hook  with  Knight-hood. 

There  is  no  Angler  like  a  Wench 

Stark-naked  in  the  water, 
Shel  make  you  leave  both  Trout  and  Tench 

And  throw  your  self  in  after ; 
Your  Hook  and  Line  she  will  confine, 

Then  tangled  is  the  intangler, 
And  this  I  fear  hath  spoyl'd  the  ware 

Of  many  a  Jovial  Angler. 

But  if  you!  Trowl  for  a  Scriveners  soul 

Cast  in  a  rich  young  Gallant, 
To  take  a  Courtier  by  the  pole, 

Though  in  a  Golden  Tallent : 
But  yet  I  fear  the  draught  will  ne'er 

Compound  for  half  the  charge  an't, 
But  if  you'l  catch  the  Devil  at  a  snatch 

You  must  bait  him  with  a  Sergeant. 

Thus  have  I  made  my  Anglers  Trade 

To  stand  above  defiance, 
For  like  the  Mathematick  Art, 

It  runs  through  every  Science  : 

If 


Complete.  149 

If  with  my  Angling  Song  I  can 

To  Mirth  and  pleasure  seize  you, 
Fie  bait  my  hook  with  Wit  again, 

And  Angle  still  to  please  you. 

Of  the  two  Amorous  Swains. 

TOM  and  Will  were  Shepherds  Swains 
Who  lov'd  and  lived  together, 
Till  fair  Pastora  grac'd  the  Plains, 

Alas  !  why  came  she  thither  : 
Tom  and  Will  fed  several  Flocks ; 

Yet  felt  both  one  desire  ; 
Pastords  Eyes  and  comely  Locks 
Set  both  their  hearts  on  fire. 

Tom  came  of  a  gentle  race 

By  Father  and  by  Mother, 
Will  was  noble,  but  alass 

He  was  a  younger  Brother  ! 
Tom  was  toy-some,  Will  was  sad, 

No  Hunts-man  nor  no  Fowler, 
Tom  was  held  the  properer  Lad, 

But  Will  the  better  Bowler. 

Tom  would  drink  her  health  and  swear 

The  Nation  could  not  want  her, 
Will  would  take  her  by  the  Eare 

And  with  his  Voice  enchant  her : 

K  3  Tom 


134  [  i  S  °]  Merry  Drollerie, 

Tom  kept  alwaies  in  her  sight 

And  ne'er  forgot  his  duty, 
Will  was  witty  and  would  write 

Sweet  Sonnets  on  her  Beauty. 

Yet  which  of  them  she  loved  best, 

Or  whether  she  lov'd  either  ; 
'Twas  thought  they  found  it  to  their  cost 

That  she  indeed  lov'd  neither : 
Yet  she  was  so  sweet  a  she 

So  pleasing  in  behaviour, 
That  Tom  thought  he,  and  Will  thought  he 

Was  chiefest  in  her  favour. 

Pastora  was  a  lovely  Lass 

And  of  a  comely  feature, 
Divinely  good  and  fair  she  was, 

And  kind  to  every  Creature  : 
Of  favour  she  was  provident : 

And  yet  not  over-sparing, 
She  gave  no  loose  encouragment, 

Yet  kept  men  from  despairing. 

When  tatling  fame  had  made  report 

Of  fair  Pastora 's  beauty, 
Pastora 's  sent  for  to  the  Court, 

For  to  perform  her  duty  ; 
And  to  the  Court  Pastorals  gone, 

It  were  no  Court  without  her, 

The 


Complete.  [151]   135 

The  Queen  of  all  her  Train  had  none 
Was  half  so  fair  about  her. 

Tom  hung  his  Dog,  and  flung  away 

His  Sheep  hook,  and  his  Wallet ; 
Will  broke  his  Pipes,  and  Curst  the  day 

That  ere  he  made  a  Ballet ; 
Their  Nine-pins  and  their  bowls  they  brake, 

Their  Tunes  were  turn'd  to  Tears ; 
'Tis  time  for  me  an  end  to  make, 

Let  them  go  shake  their  Ears. 

Sweet  rest  in  the  Grave. 

Wake  all  you  deadf,]  what  Ho[l]  what  Ho[!] 
How  soundly  they  sleep  whose  Pillows  lie  low ; 
They  mind  not  your  lovers  who  walk  above 
On  the  decks  of  the  world  in  storms  of  Love, 
No  whisper  now,  no  Glance  can  pass 
Through  wick[et]s  or  through  panes  of  Glass, 
For  our  Windows  and  Doores  are  shut  and  Barfd    [;] 
Lie  close  in  the  Church  and  in  the  Churchyard, 

In  every  grave,  make  room,  make  room, 
The  world's  at  an  end,  and  we  come,  we  come. 
The  State  is  now,  Loves  foe,  Loves  foe, 
Has  seiz'd  on  his  Arms,  his  Quiver  and  Bowe, 
Has  pinion'd  his  Wings,  and  fetter'd  his  feet, 
Because  he  made  way  for  Lovers  to  meet  \ 

K  4  But 


152  Merry  Drollerie, 

But  oh  sad  chance,  his  Judge  was  old ; 

Hearts  cruel  grow,  when  blood  grows  cold     [:] 
No  man  being  young,  his  Process  would  draw, 
Oh  Heavens  that  Love  should  be  subject  to  Law, 

Lovers  go  wooe  the  dead  the  dead  ! 

Lie  two  in  a  grave,  and  to  bed,  to  bed. 


The  Production  of  the  Female 

X~  Kind. 

j/ 

THere  is  a  certain  idle  kind  of  Creature, 
By  a  foolish  name,  we  call  a  woman  ; 
A  pox  upon  this  little  old  whore  Nature  ; 
That  e're  she  brought  this  Monster  to  undo  man  ; 
Many  have  wondred  how  it  came  to  pass, 
But  mark,  and  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was  : 

When  first  she  brought  forth  man,  her  son  and  heir, 
The  Gods  came  all  one  day  to  gossip  with  her, 
Her  husband,  Lenus,  proud  to  see  them  there, 
Drank  healths  apace  to  bid  them  welcome  thither, 
Till  drunk  to  bed  he  went,  and  in  the  fit 
He  got  the  second  child,  this  female  Chit. 

The  Privy  Council  of  the  Heavens  and  Planets, 
Whose  wisdom  governs  all  Affairs  on  Earth, 
Held  many  consultations  in  their  Senates 
What  should  become  of  this  prodigious  Birth, 

At 


Complete.  153 

A.t  length  agreed  to  give  these  strange  formallities 
A.S  many  strange  and  correspondent  quallities. 

Saturn,  gave  -sullenness ;  Jove,  soveraignity  ; 

Mars,  sudden  wrath,  and  unappeased  hate ; 

Sol,  a  garish  look,  and  a  wanton  eye ; 

Venus,  desires  and  Lusts  insatieties  ;          [?  insatiate  ;] 

Meratry,  craft,  and  deep  dissembling  gave  her  ; 

Luna,  inconstant  thoughts,  still  apt  to  waver. 

The  Bow-G00se. 

THe  best  of  Poets  write  of  Frogs, 
Some  of  'Ulysses  charmed  Hogs, 
And  some  of  Flies,  and  some  of  Dogs 
In  former  Ages  told  : 
Some  of  the  silver  Swan  in  Prose, 
Though  mine  be  not  a  Swan,  what  though  ? 
It  was  a  Goose  was  brought  from  Bow 
To  Algate. 

As  harmless,  and  as  innocent 
She  was  as  those  that  with  her  went ; 
Nor  do  I  think  the  watchmen  meant 
More  sillier  than  She ; 
She  gave  them  never  a  word  at  all, 
But  only  rested  on  a  stall, 
And  yet  these  Cannibals  did  fall, 
About  her. 

But 


138  [ 1 54]  Merry  Drollerie, 

But  she  with  silence  there  stood  still, 
Till  he  perceived  each  mans  bill, 
Desiring  them  not  use  them  ill 
That  lookt  so  like  them  all : 
Then  they  disdaining,  did  begin 
To  bring  us  all  into  a  gin, 
And  then  the  Constable  came  in, 
And  took  us. 

To  him  they  straight  reveal' d  the  case, 
And  vow'd  each  man  to  quit  his  place, 
If  we  were  suffered  to  disgrace 
The  Kings  Lievtenant  so  : 
And  then  the  Ganders  eminence 
The  Goose  and  us  commanded  thence, 
And  made  us  graduates  commence 
The  Counter. 

We  thither  went,  but  then  my  Goose, 
Which  pinion'd  was  before,  got  loose, 
For  having  her  within  a  noose 
What  fear  had  they  of  her  ? 
Then  into  every  room  we  went, 
And  here  and  there  our  money  spent 
Untill  the  Constable  had  sent 
Next  morning. 

We  summoned  were  for  to  appear 
Before  an  Alderman,  I  swear, 


Complete.  [!SS]  J39 

That  might  have  been  that  very  year 
Lord  Maior  for  his  wit : 
He  tooke  our  Gooses  case  in  hand, 
And  all  things  with  such  Judgement  scan'd, 
That  having  done,  we  scarce  could  stand 
For  laughing. 

For  he  did  not  only  reprehend 
Our  follies,  but  did  much  commend 
The  Constable,  his  honest  friend, 
For  his  good  service  done  ; 
How  is  that  noble  City  blest 
With  Officers  above  the  rest, 
That  now  may  add  unto  their  Crest 
My  Bow  Goose  ? 

But  now,  with  grief,  I'll  tell  you  what, 
My  Goose  that  was  before  so  fat, 
That  might  have  been  accepted  at 
A  Maior  or  Sheriffs  own  boord, 
Grew  lanck  and  lean,  and  straight  so  ill, 
That  from  her  wings  she  shed  a  Quill, 
Desiring  me  to  write  her  Will, 
Which  I  did. 

Then  thus  my  dying  Goose  began, 
Unto  the  Reverend  Alderman 
I  do  bequeath  my  brain-sick  pan, 

And  all  that  it  contains  : 

And 


156  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

And  Master  Constable,  to  you 
My  empty  head,  which  is  your  due ; 
My  Bill  I'll  give  the  cursed  crue 
Your  Watchmen. 

I  do  bequeath  my  bodies  trunk 
Unto  Good  Fellows  for  the  Rump, 
Desiring  that  it  may  be  drunk 
In  Clarret  and  Canary : 
I  pray  discharge  your  company 
All  such  as  shall  Recusants  be 
To  drink  a  health  in  memory 
O'  th'  Bow-Goose. 

My  Giblets  to  the  City  Cook 
That  dwels  not  far  from  Pasty-nook, 
That  he  unto  my  Corps  may  look, 
And  coffin't  in  a  Crust ; 
My  guts  for  Marshal  red-face  save, 
To  hang  about  his  neck  so  brave, 
That  on  his  Palfrey  the  proud  Knave 
May  swagger. 

And  to  my  fellow  prisoners  all, 
That  now  here  are,  or  ever  shall, 
That  come  to  lye  within  this  wall, 
I  give  my  heavy  heart ; 
My  claws  and  pinions  I  do  give 
Unto  the  Serjeants  and  Sheriff, 


To 


Complete.  157 

To  catch  and  pinion  them  that  live 
Indebted. 

And  furthermore,  it  is  my  will 
The  City  Clerk  shall  have  a  quill 
Such  learned  speeches  to  write  still, 
As  his  grave  Lordship  utters  ; 
And  likewise  Mistris  Alderman 
Shall  have  my  tail  to  make  a  Fan  ; 
My  Legs  I'll  give  the  Gentleman 
Her  Usher 

Because  my  kindred  of  Bridewel 
Such  asses  to  the  Cart  compel 
As  occupy  their  Trades  so  well, 
I  do  forbid  them  all, 
That  they  presume  not  for  to  come 
Whereas  my  Dirges  shall  be  sung, 
For  I'll  have  wiser  in  the  room 
Than  they  are. 

The  Beadle  and  the  Bell-man  I 
Executors  do  make,  thereby 
Such  legacies  to  satisfie 
As  I  have  here  related  ; 
And  that  all  things  perform'd  may  be, 
This  my  last  Will  to  oversee 
I  do  ordain  the  Deputy 
Of  Duck-lane. 

There's 


142  [158]  Merry  Drollery, 

There's  one  thing  more  I  do  conceive, 
Almost  forgot,  I  do  bequeath 
My  Tongue,  which  tatling  cannot  leave, 
Unto  the  City  Council, 
That  they  may  mediate  a  truce 
Between  the  City  and  me  their  Goose, 
Who  wooes  to  be  their  constant  Muse 
For  ever. 

Write  on  my  Tombe  this  Epitaph, 
Whereat,  I  pray,  let  no  man  laugh  : 
Here  lies  a  Goose  that  could  not  quaff, 
And  yet  was  a  good  Fellow ; 
The  coursest  of  our  kindred  must 
Return  with  me  unto  the  dust, 
And  after  me  who  shall  be  first 
None  knoweth. 

Now  let  them  in  their  Liveries  call 
The  boys  from  every  Hospitall 
To  sing  my  solemn  funeral 
With  Dirges  to  my  grave  ; 
And  when  my  Goose  had  uttered  this 
O  then  my  Goose  began  to  piss, 
And  sighing,  with  a  harmeless  hiss, 
Departed. 


News 


w 


Complete,  [J59]  *43 


News. 
Hite  Bears  are  lately  come  to  Town, 


That's  no  news ; 
And  Cuckolds  Dogs  shall  pull  them  down, 

That's  no  news 

Ten  Dozen  of  Capons  sold  for  a  Crown, 
Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

^ 
A  Jackanapes  at  a  Merchants  door, 

That's  no  news  \ 
An  Irish  man  in  an  Ale-house  score, 

That's  no  news ; 
And  Gravesend  Barge  without  a  Whore, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  fizling  Cur  in  a  Ladies  lap, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Feather  to  shake  in  a  Fool's  cap, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Lyon  caught  in  a  Mouse  Trap, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  younger  Brother  slow  to  thrive, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Drone  to  rob  the  poor  Bees  hive, 

That's  no  news ; 


160  Merry  Drollerie, 

A  Parsons  wife  not  apt  to  swive, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  Taylor  brisk  in  swaggering  hose 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Frenchman  stradling  as  he  goes, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Drunkard  without  a  Copper  nose, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  Dutchman  to  be  dayly  drunk, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Captain  to  maintain  a  Punk, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Wardrobe  in  an  empty  Trunk, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

To  see  two  Ships  at  sea  to  grapple, 

That's  no  news ; 
To  see  a  horse  that's  all  dapple, 

That's  no  news ; 
To  see  a  red  nose  roast  an  apple, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  Petty-fogger  brib'd  with  fees, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Welchman  cramm'd  with  toasted  Cheese, 

That's  no  news ; 

A 


Complete.  1 6 1 

A  Lad  and  a  Lass  in  bed  to  freeze 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  Sattin  suit  without  a  Page, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  rayling  Poet  o'er  the  Stage, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  rich  man  honest  in  this  Age, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

A  Lawyer  to  turn  hypocrite, 

That's  no  news ; 
A  Serjeant  to  arrest  a  Knight, 

That's  no  news  ; 
A  Court  without  a  Parasite, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 

Before  my  news  be  overslipt, 

That's  no  news, 
I  wish  all  Knaves  from  London  Shipt, 

That's  no  news, 
And  all  the  whores  in  Bridewell  whipt, 

Hey  ho,  that's  news  indeed. 


A 


1 62  Merry  Drollerie, 


A  Discourse  between  a  Sea-man  and 
a  Land-Souldier. 

We  Sea-men  are  the  honest  boys, 
We  fear  no  storms,  nor  Rocks-a, 
Whose  Musick  is  their  Cannons  noise, 
Whose  sporting  is  with  Knocks-a. 

Mars  hath  no  Children  of  his  own, 
But  we  that  fight  by  Land-a  [,] 

Land-Souldiers  Kingdoms  up  have  thrown, 
Yet  they  unshaken  stand-a. 

Tis  brave  to  see  a  tall  Ship  sail 
With  all  her  trim  geer  on  her, 
As  though  the  divel  were  in  her  tail 
Before  the  wind  she'll  run-a. 

Our  main  Battalia  when  it  moves 
There's  no  such  glorious  thing-a, 
Whose  Leaders,  like  so  many  Joves, 
Abroad  their  thunders  fling-a. 

Come  let's  reckon  what  Ships  are  ours, 
The  Gorgon,  and  the  Dragon, 
The  Lyon  which  in  field  is  bold, 
The  Bull  with  bloudy  Flagon, 

Come 


Complete.  \  63 

Come  let's  reckon  what  works  are  ours, 
Forts,  Bulwarks,  Barricadoes, 
Mounts,  Gabinets,  Parrapits,  Counter-mines, 
Casimates,  and  Pallizadoes, 

Field-Peeces,  Musquets,  groves  of  Pikes, 
Carbines,  and  Canoneers, 

Quadrants;  and  Half-moons,  and  Ranks  of  Files, 
And  Fronts,  and  Vans,  and  Rears. 

A  health  to  brave  Land^Souldiers  all, 
Let  Cans  a  piece  go  round-a  : 
And  to  all  Seamen,  great  and  small, 
Let  lofty  Musick  sound-a. 


/       A  Song. 

MY  Mistris  is  in  Musick  passing  skilful,  / 
And  Plaies  and  sings  her  part  at  the  first  sight, 
But  in  her  play  she  is  exceeding  wilful, 
<Vnd  will  not  play  but  for  her  own  delight, 
^or  touch  one  string,  nor  play  one  pleasing  strain, 
Unless  you  take  her  in  a  pleasing  vein. 

\lso  she  hath  a  sweet  delicious  touch 
Upon  the  Instrument  whereon  she  plaies, 
\nd  thinks  that  she  doth  never  do  too  much, 
Her  pleasures  are  dispers'd  so  many  waies  ; 

L  2  She 


164  Merry  Drollerie, 

She  hath  such  Judgement  both  in  time  and  mood, 
That  for  to  play  with  her  'twill  do  you  good. 

And  then  you  win  her  heart :  but  here's  the  spight, 

You  cannot  get  her  for  to  play  alone, 

But  play  with  her,  and  she  will  play  all  night, 

And  next  day  too,  or  else  'tis  ten  to  one, 

And  run  division  with  you  in  such  sort, 

Run  ne'er  so  swift  she'll  make  you  come  too  short. 

Still  so  she  sent  for  me  one  day  to  play, 
Which  I  did  take  for  such  exceeding  grace, 
But  she  so  tir'd  me  ere  I  went  away  : 
I  wisht  I  had  been  in  another  place  : 
She  knew  the  play  much  better  than  I  did, 
And  still  she  kept  me  time  for  heart  and  bloud, 

I  love  my  mistris,  and  I  love  to  play, 
So  she  will  let  me  play  with  intermission  : 
But  when  she  ties  me  to  it  all  the  day, 
I  hate  and  loath  her  greedy  disposition ; 
Let  her  keep  time,  as  nature  doth  require, 
And  I  will  play  as  much  as  she'll  desire. 


w 


In  Praise  of  Ale. 

Hen  the  chill  Charokoe  blows,      [Scirocco" 
And  Winter  tells  a  heavy  tale, 

And 


Complete.  165 

And  Pies  and  Daws,  and  Rooks  and  crows 
Do  sit  and  curse  the  frost  and  snows, 
Then  give  me  Ale. 

Ale  in  a  Saxon  Rumkin  then, 
Such  as  will  make  grim  Malkin  prate, 
Bids  Valour  bargain  in't  all  men,    [burgeon  in  tall] 
Quickens  the  Poets  Wits  and  Pen, 
Despises  Fate. 

Ale,  that  the  absent  Battel  fights 
And  forms  the  March  of  Swedish  Drums, 
Disputes  the  Princes  Laws  and  Rights, 
What's  past  and  done  tells  mortall  Wights, 
And  what's  to  come. 

Ale,  that  the  Plough-mans  heart  up  keeps, 
And  equals  it  to  Tyrants  Thrones  : 
That  wipes  the  eye  that  ever  weeps, 
And  lulls  in  sweet  and  dainty  sleeps 

Their  very  bones.  [weary] 

Grandchild  of  Ceres y  Bacchus  Daughter, 
Wines  emulous  Neighbour,  if  but  stale  : 
Ennobling  all  the  Nymphs  of  Water, 
And  filling  each  mans  heart  with  laughter, 
Oh  give  me  Ale. 


L  3  The 


1 66  Merry  Drollerie, 


The  Rebellion. 

NOw,  thanks  to  the  Powers  below, 
We  have  even  done  our  do, 

The  Myter  is  down,  and  so  is  the  C 

And  with  them  the  Coronet  too  : 
All  is  now  the  Peoples,  and  then 
What  is  theirs  is  ours  we  know ; 

There  is  no  such  thing  as  B or  K 

Or  Peer,  but  in  name  or  show ; 

Come  Clowns,  and  come  Boys,  come  Hoberde-hoys, 

Come  Females  of  each  degree, 

Stretch  out  your  throats,  bring  in  your  Votes, 

And  make  good  the  Anarchy  ; 

Then  thus  it  shall  be,  saies  Alse, 

Nay,  thus  it  shall  be,  saies  Amie, 

Nay,  thus  it  shall  go,  saies  Taffie,  I  trow, 

Nay,  thus  it  shall  go,  saies  Jemmy, 

Oh  but  the  truth,  good  People  all,  the  truth  is  such  a 

For  it  will  undo  both  Church  and  State  too,       (thing, 

And  pull  out  the  throat  of  our  King  : 

No,  nor  the  Spirit,  nor  the  new  Light 

Can  make  the  Point  so  clear, 

But  we  must  bring  out  the  defiPd  coat, 

What  thing  the  truth  is,  and  where, 

Speak 


Complete.  167 

Speak  Abraham,  speak  Hester, 

Speak  Judith^  speak  Kester, 

Speak  tag  and  rag,  short  coat  and  long  : 

Truth  is  the  spel  that  made  us  rebel, 

And  murder  and  plunder  ding  dong ; 

Sure  I  have  the  truth,  saies  Numphs, 

Nay,  I  have  the  truth,  saies  Clem, 

Nay,  I  have  the  truth,  saies  reverend  Ruth, 

Nay,  I  have  the  truth,  saies  Nem. 

Well,  let  the  truth  be  whose  it  will, 

There  is  something  else  is  ours, 

Yet  this  devotion  in  our  Religion 

May  chance  to  abate  our  Powers  : 

Then  let's  agree  on  some  new  way, 

It  skills  not  much  how  true, 

Take  Pryn  and  his  club,  or  Smec  and  his  tub, 

Or  any  Sect,  old  or  new ; 

The  divel  is  in  the  pack  if  choice  you  can  lack, 

We  are  fourscore  Religions  strong, 

Then  take  your  choice,  the  Major  voice 

Shall  carry't  right  or  wrong ; 

Then  let's  have  King  Charks,  saies  George, 

Nay,  we'll  have  his  son,  saies  Hugh  ; 

Nay,  then  let's  have  none,  saies  gabbering  Jone, 

Nay  we'll  be  all  Kings,  saies  Prue. 

Nay,  but  neighbours  and  friends,  one  word  more, 
There's  something  else  behind, 

L  4  And 


1 68  Merry  Drollerie, 

And  wise  though  you  be,  you  do  not  well  see 

In  which  door  sits  the  wind  ; 

And  for  Religion,  to  speak  truth, 

And  in  both  Houses  sence, 

The  matter  is  all  one  if  any  or  none, 

If  it  were  not  for  the  pretence  ; 

Now  here  doth  lurk  the  key  of  the  work, 

And  how  to  dispose  of  the  Crown 

Dexteriously,  and  as  it  may  be 

For  your  behalf  and  our  own  ; 

Then  we'll  be  of  this,  saies  Meg, 

Nay,  we'll  be  of  this,  saies  Tib, 

Come,  he'll  be  of  all,  saies  pittifull  Paul, 

Nay,  we'll  be  of  none,  saies  Gib. 

Oh  we  shall  have,  if  we  go  one  [on] 

In  Plunder,  Excise,  and  Blood, 

But  few  folks,  and  poor,  to  domineer  o'er, 

And  that  will  not  be  so  good  • 

Then  let's  agree  on  some  new  way, 

Some  new  and  happy  course, 

The  Country  is  grown  sad,  the  City  is  Horn  mad, 

And  both  Houses  are  worse ; 

The  Sinod  hath  writ,  the  General  hath  shit, 

And  both  to  like  purpose,  for 

Religion,  Laws,  the  Truth,  and  the  Cause 

We  talk  on,  but  nothing  we  do ; 

Come,  then  let's  have  peace,  saies  Nel, 

No,  no,  but  We  won't,  saies  Meg,  But 


Complete.  1 69 

>ut  I  say  we  will,  sales  fiery-face  Phil, 
Ve  will,  and  we  won't,  saies  Hodge. 

^hus  from  the  rout  who  can  expect 

)ught  but  confusion, 

ince  true  unity  with  good  Monarchy 

tegin  and  end  in  one? 

f  then  when  all  is  thought  their  own, 

Lnd  lies  at  their  belief, 

?hese  popular  pates  reap  nought  but  debates 

rrom  these  many  round-headed  beasts  ; 

>ome  Royallist[s,]  then,  do  you  play  the  men, 

Lnd  Cavaliers  give  the  word, 

Lnd  now  let's  see  what  you  will  be 

bid  whether  you  can  accord ; 

L  health  to  King  Charles,  saies  Tom, 

Jp  with  it,  saies  Ralph,  like  a  man, 

}od  bless  him,  saies  Doll,  and  raise  him,  saies  Moll, 

^nd  send  him  his  own,  saies  Nan. 

3ut  now  for  these  prudent  Wights, 

Phat  sit  without  end,  and  to  none, 

^nd  their  Committees  in  Towns  and  Cities 

?ill  with  confusion ; 

ror  the  bold  Troopes  of  Sectaries, 

rhe  Scots  and  their  Partakers, 

)ur  new  Brittish  States,  Col.  Surges  and  his  mates, 

rhe  Covenant  and  its  makers  : 

?or  all  these  wee'll  pray,  and  in  such  a  way, 

That 


170  Merry  Drollerie, 

That  if  it  might  granted  be, 

Both  Jack  and  GUI,  and  Moll  and  Will, 

And  all  the  World  will  agree  : 

Else  Pox  take  them  all,  saies  Bess, 

And  a  Plague  too,  saies  Mary, 

The  devil,  saies  Dick,  and  his  Dam  too,  saies  Nick, 

Amen  and  amen  say  we. 


How  to  get  a  Child  without 
help  of  a  Man. 

A  Maiden  of  late,  whose  name  was  sweet  Kate, 
Was  dwelling  in  London,  near  to  Aldersgate  : 
Now  list  to  my  Ditty,  declare  it  I  can, 

She  would  have  a  Child  without  help  of  a  man. 

To  a  Doctor  she  came,  a  man  of  great  fa'me, 
Whose  deep  skill  in  Physick  Report  did  proclaim, 
I  pray,  master  Doctor,  shew  me,  if  you  can, 

How  I  may  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 

Then  listen,  quoth  he,  since  so  it  must  be,        (sently. 
This  wondrous  strong  medicine  I'll  shew  you  pre- 
Take  nine  pound  of  thunder,  six  legs  of  a  Swan, 
And  you  shall  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 


The  wooll  of  a  Frog,  the  juyce  of  a  Log, 
Well  parboyl'd  together  in  the  skin  of  a  hog, 


Witt 


Complete.  171 

With  the  egge  of  a  Mooncalf,  if  get  it  you  can, 

And  you  shall  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 

rhe  love  of  false  Harlots,  the  Faith  of  false  Varlets, 
iVith  the  Truth  of  decoys,  that  walk  in  their  Scarlet, 
\nd  the  Feathers  of  a  Lobster  well  fry'd  in  a  pan, 
And  you  shall  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 


Drops  of  rain  brought  hither  from  Spain 
iVith  the  blast  of  a  Bellows  quite  over  the  main, 
iVith  eight  quarts  of  brimstone,  brew'd  in  a  beer  Can, 
And  you  shall  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 

Six  Pottles  of  Lard  squeezed  from  a  Rock  hard, 
>Vith  nine  Turkey  Eggs,  each  as  long  as  a  Yard, 
>Vith  a  Pudding  of  hailstones  bak'd  well  in  a  Pan, 
And  you  shall  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 

rhese  Medicines  are  good,  and  approved  hath  stood, 
/Veil  tempered  together  with  a  Pottle  of  blood, 
>queez'd  from  a  Grashopper,  and  the  naile  of  a  Swan, 
To  make  Maids  conceive  without  help  of  a  man. 


A 


Lovers  Fancy. 

Fter  the  pains  of  a  desperate  Lover, 
When  day  and  night  I  had  sighed  all  in  vain, 

Ah 


172  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

Ah  what  a  pleasure  it  is  to  discover, 
In  her  eyes  pitty  who  causes  my  pain, 
Chorus  Ah  what,  &c. 

When  the  denial  comes  fainter  and  fainter, 
And  her  eyes  gives  what  her  tongue  doth  deny[,] 
Ah  what  a  trembling  I  feel  when  I  venter, 
Ah  what  a  trembling  does  usher  my  Joy  ! 
Chor.  Ah  what,  &c. 

When  with  unkindness  our  Love  at  a  stand  is, 
And  both  have  punish'd  our  selves  with  the  pain, 
Ah  What  a  pleasure  the  touch  of  her  hand  is  ! 
Ah  what  a  pleasure  to  touch  it  again  !  [press] 

Chor.  Ah  what,  &c. 

When  with  a  sigh  she  accords  me  the  blessing 
And  her  eyes  twinkle  'twixt  pleasure  and  pain, 
Ah  what  a  Joy  !  oh  beyond  all  expressing  ! 
Ah  what  a  Joy  to  hear  it  [,  Shall  we]  again  ! 
Chor.  Ah  what,  &c. 


Fortunes  Favours  distributed. 

BLind  Fortune,  if  thou  want'st  a  Guide, 
I'll  tell  thee  how  thou  shalt  divide  : 
Distribute  unto  each  his  due, 

Justicels  blind,  and  so  are  you. 

T 


Complete.  173 

To  Usurers  this  doom  impart : 

May  his  Scriveners  break,  and  then  his  heart, 

May  his  Debtors  unto  Beggars  fall 

Or  what  is  as  bad,  turn  Courtiers  all. 

And  unto  Tradesmen,  that  sell  dear, 

A  long  vacation  all  the  year, 

Revenge  us  thus  on  their  deceits, 

And  send  them  Wives  light  as  their  Weights. 

But  Fortune  how  wiPt  recompence 
The  French  mans  dayly  insolence  ? 
For  them  I  wish  no  greater  pain, 
Than  to  be  sent  to  France  again. 

And  lest  thine  Altar  should  want  fire, 
To  Bridemens  Votes  grant  their  desire, 
To  Lovers,  that  will  not  believe 
Their  Sweet  mistakes,  thy  blindness  give. 

And  lest  the  Players  should  grow  poor, 

Send  them  Anglauris  more  and  more,      ["Ag/auras  "] 

And  to  the  Puritan  more  eares, 

Than  Cealus  in  his  Garland  wears.       [Ceres  in  her] 

And  to  Physitians,  if  thou  Please, 
Send  them  another  new  Disease  ; 
To  Scholars  give  if  thou  canst  do't, 
A  Benefice  without  a  suit. 

Unto 


174  Merry  Drollerie, 

Unto  Court-Lords,  Monopolies, 
And  to  their  Wives  Communities  ; 
Thus,  Fortune,  thou  canst  please  us  all, 
If  Lords  can  rise,  and  Ladies  fall. 

And  unto  Lawyers,  I  beseech, 
As  much  for  silence  as  for  speech ; 
To  Ladies  Ushers,  strength  of  back, 
And  unto  me,  a  cup  of  Sack. 

If  these  Instructions  make  thee  wise, 
Men  shall  restore  again  thy  eyes  : 
By  a  new  name  thou  shalt  commence, 
Not  fortune  call'd,  but  Providence. 


A  Letany. 

FRom  Mahomet,  and  Paganisme, 
From  Hereticks,  and  Sects  and  Schisme, 
From  high-way  Rascals,  and  Cutpurses ; 
From  carted  Bawds,  Scolds,  and  dry  Nurses, 
From  Glister-Pipes,  and  Doctors  Whistles, 
From  begging  Schollars  stale  Epistles, 
From  Turn-stile  Boots,  and  Long  lane  Beavers, 
From  Agues,  and  from  drunken  Feavers, 
Libera  nos  Domine. 

From 


Complete.  175 

From  all  several  kind  of  Itches, 
From  Pantaloons,  and  Cloak-bag  Breeches, 
From  Carbinadoed  Sutes  on  Serges,  [?  of  S] 

From  a  Bastard  that  is  the  Clergies, 
From  thredden  points,  and  Cap  of  Cruel, 
From  the  danger  of  a  Duel, 
From  a  Tally  full  of  Notches, 
And  from  privy  Seals  of  Botches, 
Libera  nos  Domine. 

From  a  Whore  that's  never  pleasant, 
But  in  lusty  Wine  or  Pheasant, 
From  the  Watch  at  twelve  a'clock, 
And  from  Bess  Broughtons  button'd  Smock, 
From  Hackney  Coaches,  and  from  Panders, 
That  do  boast  themselves  Commanders, 
From  a  Taylors  tedious  Bill, 
And  Pilgrimage  up  Holborn  Hill, 

Libera  nos  Domine. 

From  damages  and  restitutions, 
From  accursed  Executions, 
From  all  new-found  waies  of  sinning, 
From  the  scurf,  and  sables  Linnen, 
From  the  Pox,  and  the  Physitian, 
And  from  the  Spanish  Inquisition, 
From  a  Wife  that's  wan  and  meager, 
And  from  Lice  and  Winters  Leaguer, 

Libera  nos  Domine. 

From 


176  Merry  Drollery, 

From  a  griping  slavish  Cullion, 
From  the  Gout,  and  the  Strangullion, 
From  a  Mountibanks  Potion, 
From  his  scarrings  and  his  Lotion, 
From  the  Buttocks  of  Prisilla, 
That  diers  so  with  Sarsapherilla, 
From  a  Lecture  to  the  Zealous, 
And  from  the  Tub  of  old  Cornelius, 
Libera  nos  Domine. 

From  bawdy  Courts,  and  Civil  Doctors, 
From  drunken  Sumners  and  their  Proctors, 
From  occasions  for  to  revel 
With  a  Lawyer  at  the  Divel, 
From  Serjeants,  Yeomen,  and  their  Maces        [,] 
And  from  false  friends  with  double  faces, 
From  an  enemy  More  mighty 
Than  Usquebaugh  or  Aqua  vitae, 

Libera  nos  Domine. 


Penance. 

GOD  bless  my  good  Lord  Bishop, 
And  send  him  long  to  raign, 
In  health,  wealth,  and  prosperity, 
True  justice  to  maintain, 
He  beats  down  sin  in  every  place, 

Poor  Wenches  dare  not  do 

Lesl 


Complete.  177 

Lest  they  do  Penance  in  a  sheet 
And  pay  their  money  too. 

Down  lately  in  a  Garden 
It  was  my  chance  to  walk, 
Where  I  heard  two  Sisters 
That  secretly  did  talk 
Quoth  the  Younger  to  the  Elder, 
In  faith  I  dare  not  do, 
Lest  I  do  Penance  in  a  sheet, 
And  pay  my  money  too. 

Then  quoth  the  Eldest  Sister, 
You  are  not  of  my  mind, 
For  if  I  meet  a  proper  Lad 
That  will  to  me  prove  kind, 
In  faith,  quoth  she,  I  will  not  care 
To  take  a  turn  or  two, 
Though  I  do  Penance  in  a  sheet, 
And  pay  my  money  too. 

But  here's  the  thing  that  vexes  me, 
And  troubles  much  my  brain, 
If  a  poor  man  chance  to  get  a  child, 
And  cannot  it  maintain, 
He  must  be  censur'd  by  the  Law 
As  Justice  doth  afford 
He  must  be  stript,  and  then  be  whipt, 
And  brought  before  my  Lord. 

M  And 


178  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

And  when  he  comes  before  my  Lord, 
And  hath  no  ready  Tale, 
His  Mittimus  is  straight-waies  made, 
And  sent  unto  the  Jayle, 
And  there  he  must  remaine 
The  space  of  half  a  year, 
If  every  Wench  were  served  so 
Then  kissing  would  be  dear. 


On  Good  Canary. 

OF  all  the  rare  juices 
That  Bacchus  or  Ceres  produces, 
There's  none  that  I  can  nor  dare  I 
Compare  with  the  Princely  Canary  ; 
For  this  is  the  thing 
That  a  fancy  infuses, 

This  first  got  a  K 

And  next  the  nine  Muses. 
Twas  this  made  old  Poets  so  sprightly  to  sing 

And  fill  all  the  world  with  glory  and  fame  on't ; 
They  Hellicon  call'd  it  and  the  Thispian  spring, 
But  this  was  the  drink  though  they  knew  not  the 

(name  on't 
2 

Our  Sider  and  Perry 
Make  a  man  mad  but  not  merry, 

It  makes  the  people  Wind-mill  pated, 
And  with  crackers  sophisticated, 

Anc 


Complete.  1 79 

And  your  Hops,  yest,  and  Malt, 
When  they're  mingled  together 

Makes  your  fancies  to  halt, 
Or  reeke  any  whither.  [reel]     » 

:  stuffs  our  Braines  with  Froth  and  with  Yest  ; 
That  if  one  would  write  but  a  verse  for  a  Bellman, 
[e  must  study  till  Christmas  for  an  Eight  Shilling Jest 
These  liquors  won't  raise  but  drown  &  o're- 

(whelm  man. 
3 

Our  drowsy  Metheglin 
Was  only  ordain'd  to  enveigle  in 

The  Novice  that  knows  not  to  drink  yet ; 
But  is  fuddled  before  he  can  think  it, 

And  your  Clarret  and  White 
Have  a  Gunpowder  fury  ; 

They're  of  the  French  spright, 
But  they  won't  long  endure  you  : 
nd  your  Holliday  Muscadine  Allagant  and  Tent. 
Have  only  this  property  and  virtue  that's  fit  in't 
hey'l  make  a  man  sleep  till  a  Preachment  be  spent, 
But  we  neither  can  warm  our  blood  or  our  wit 

(in't. 
,4 

The  Bagrag  and  Rhenish 
You  must  with  Ingredients  Replenish, 

Its  a  wine  to  please  Ladies  &  Toys  with 
But  not  for  a  man  to  rejoice  with : 

But  its  Sack  makes  the  sport 
And  who  gaines  but  the  Flavour 
Though  an  Abbesse  he  court 

M  2  In 


i8o  Merry  Drollerie, 

In  his  high  shooes  he'll  have  her  : 
It's  this  that  advances  the  Drinker  and  Drawer, 

Though  his  father  come  to  Town  in  Hobnailes  & 
He  turns  it  to  Velvet  &  brings  up  an  Heir,    (Leather, 
In  the  Town  in  his  Chain,  in  the  field,  with  his 

(Feather, 


Loves  Lunatick. 

HEard  you  not  lately  of  a  man 
That  ran  beside  his  wits, 
And  naked  through  the  City  ran, 
Wrapt  in  his  frantick  fits. 

My  honest  Neighbours  it  is  I, 

See  how  the  people  flout  me ; 

See  where  the  mad  man  comes,  they  cry, 

With  all  the  Boys  about  me. 

Tom  Bedlam  was  a  Sage  to  me, 
I  speak  in  sober-sadness, 
For  more  strange  Visions  did  I  see 
Than  Tom  in  all  his  madness. 

When  first  into  this  rage  I  hopt, 
About  the  Market  walkt  I, 
With  Capons  Feathers  in  my  Cap, 
Unto  my  self  thus  talkt  I  : 

Saw 


Complete.  181 

Saw  you  not  Angels  in  her  face, 
Each  eye  a  Star  out-darting  ? 
Heard  you  not  Musick  from  her  voyce, 
Her  Lips  all  joy  imparting  ? 

Is  not  her  hair  more  pure  than  Gold, 
Or  Web  of  Spiders  spinning  ? 
Methinks  in  her  I  do  behold 
My  joyes  and  woes  beginning. 

Methinks  I  see  her  in  a  Cloud, 
The  Planets  round  about  her, 
'  I  calPd  and  cry'd  to  them  aloud, 
I  cannot  live  without  her. 

The  Bracelets  which  I  wore  of  late, 
Inrich'd  with  Pearls  and  Gold, 
Are  turn'd  now  to  Iron  Chains, 
Which  keep  my  Pulses  cold. 

I  mused  thus  unto  my  self, 
Each  word  with  gesture  acted  : 
The  people  cry'd,  O  look  poor  elfe, 
See  how  the  man's  distracted. 

I  was  a  poor  and  harmless  Wight 

Till  roguish  Cupid  caught  me, 

And  till  his  Mother  with  her  flight        [?  slight] 

Into  this  pickle  brought  me. 

M  3  At 


1 82  Merry  Drollerie, 

At  which  my  friends  they  were  not  glad, 
Pray  Jove  your  Wits  to  cherish, 
For  once  I  was  as  proper  a  Lad 
As  was  in  all  the  Parish. 

But  whipt  and  stript  I  now  must  be, 
Intangled  now  in  Chains, 
And  for  my  love,  you  all  may  see, 
I  have  this  for  my  pains. 

To  Stable-straw  I  must  go, 
My  time  in  Bedlam  spending  : 
Good  folk,  you  your  beginning  see, 
But  do  not  know  your  ending. 

The  new  Medly  of  the  Country  man, 

Citizen,  and  Souldier. 

(shire 

FRom  what-you-calPt  Town  in  what-call-you't 
To  London  Cham  come,  what  fine  Volk  are  here  1 
Sure  thick  is  the  place,  itch  smell  the  good  chear. 
Che'le  knock  at  the  Yate,  then  what  ho  :  God  be  here, 
What  are  you  Sir  ? 

Cham  a  West  Country  man  Zur. 

Good  Bumkin  forbear, 

Such  hopnails  as  you  are  do  seldom  come  here. 

Cods  sooks,  here's  a  Yellow  wo'd  make  a  man  zwearf." 

Cham  come  to  tell,  Sir,  with  Master  Lord  Maior. 

What 


Complete.  183 

What  to  do  Sir  ? 
To  see  his  fine  Doublet,  his  Chain,  and  his  Ruff, 
His  Beaver,  his  Gown,  and  such  finical  stuff ; 
And  what  do  you  think  of  a  kick  or  a  cuff? 
If  my  whip  will  but  last,  i'  faith  'chil  give  thee  enough, 

And  well  laid  on. 

Hold,  hold,  prethee  Countriman  be  not  so  hot. 
Che  have  a  huge  mind  to  lay  a  long  lace  on  thy  coat. 
Prethee  tell  me  thy  name  &  my  L.  Maior  shall  know 
My  name  is  Tom  Hoyden,  what  saiest  thou  to  that  ?   (it 

Tom  Hoyden  ! 

Then  Tom  Hoyden  pack  hence  to  Croyden, 

The  Country  is  fitter  for  thee. 

Though  you  abhor  us,  and  care  not  for  us, 

Without  us  you  cannot  be. 

We  can  live  without  you  and  your  Rustick  coat,  [.] 

Did  we  not  Vittle  your  House, 

My  Lady  Maries,  with  all  her  Baries, 

Would  shite  as  small  as  a  Lowse. 

We  have  money.     And  we  have  honey. 

And  we  have  the  Silver  and  Gold. 

We  have  fuel. 

And  we  have  Jewels. 

And  we  have  Sheep  in  the  Fold. 

We  have  silk  enough. 

And  we  have  milk  enough. 

But  we  have  the  Treasure  untold  ; 

M4  We 


184  Merry  Drollerie, 

We  have  means,  and  ease. 
But  we  have  Beans  and  Pease, 

And  Bacon,  hold  belly,  hold. 

We  have  Purses,  and  we  have  Horses. 

And  we  have  Powder  and  shot. 

We  have  Pullets. 

And  we  have  Bullets. 

And  we  have  Spirits  as  hot. 

We  have  Honours,  and  we  have  Manners, 

But  we  are  walled  about. 

But  when  we^  begin 

To  keep  our  Cattle  in, 

In  faith,  you'll  quickly  come  out. 

We  have  Gallies. 

And  we  have  Vallies. 

And  we  have  Canons  of  brass ; 

We  have  Feathers. 

And  we  have  Weathers 

On  Mountains  matted  with  grass. 

We  have  Wine,  and  Spice,  Sugar,  Fruit,  and  Rice. 

But  we  have  good  Barley  and  Wheat : 

And,  were  we  put  to  it,  can  better  live  without 

Money,  than  you  without  Meat. 

Cho.     Then  since  'tis  so  that  we  cannot  be 
Without  one  another 

Let  us  two  agree 

May 


Complete.  185 

lay  the  Country  prove  fruitful, 

City  be  free 
Jo  Climate  in  Europe  so  happy  as  we. 

[£?/.     He  that  would  be  made  by  a  Souldiers  Trade. 
Let  him  be  encouraged  by  me, 
ror  never  did  any  men  gain  by  the  Blade 
As  we  have  since  forty  three. 

What  Fellow  is  that  ?  why,  it  seems  a  Souldate  ; 
Good  morrow,  good  morrow  to  thee : 
Why  how  now  my  friends,  all  for  your  ends, 
Will  you  make  up  a  peace  without  me  ? 

You  know  in  a  word  the  power  of  the  Sword, 
A  Canon  may  conquer  a  King : 
But  a  sharp  Sword  will  make  a  Scepter  to  shake  ; 
Faith  you  have  the  World  in  a  sling. 

Compare  the  whole  Land  to  the  parts  of  a  man, 
The  Country's  the  Legs  and  the  Toes, 
And  without  a  riddle  the  City  is  the  middle, 
But  the  Souldier  is  the  head  and  the  Nose. 

Though  now  we  wear  Blades, 

We  once  were  of  Trades, 

And  shall  be  whilst  Trading  endures  : 

Our  Officers  are,  although  men  of  war, 

Some 


1 86  Merry  Dr oiler ie; 

Some  Goldsmiths,  some  Drapers, 
And  Brewers. 

Do  you  get  increase,  we'll  guard  you  with  peace, 
The  Sword  shall  not  come  where  the  Axe  is, 
We'll  take  off  your  cares  :  we'll  take  off  your  fears  : 
But  when  will  you  take  of  [f  ]  our  Taxes  ? 

We  kept  Spaniards  from  you, 

That  would  overcome  yee, 

Whilst  you  do  plough,  harrow  and  thresh,        (bone 

The  Frenchman  is  our  own,  What  is  bred  in  the 

Will  hardly  get  out  of  the  flesh. 

We  quarter  in  Villages,  Cities  and  Towns, 
And  sometimes  we  lie  in  the  Fields. 
But  if  from  your  Colours  you  offer  to  run, 
Then  you  must  be  laid  neck  and  heels. 

Through  Countries  we  march,  &  for  enemies  search, 
And  command  all  things  in  Bravadoes. 
But  oh,  my  good  friend,  if  you  do  offend, 
I'm  sure  you  must  have  the  Strappadoes. 

When,  Sir,  the  City  still  shall  fit  you 

With  what  you  do  deserve, 

The  Country  Cowman  and  the  ploughman 

Will  not  let  you  starve  : 

With 


Complete.  187 

With  Buff  and  Beaver  we  will  ever 
Bless  the  back  and  head. 

We  will  give  thee  mony  enough,  and  Ammunition, 
And  seal  to  this  condition.    And  so  do  I  introth. 
And  I  will  spend  my  bloud  Sir. 
And  I  will  spend  my  Treasure 
To  do  the  Souldier  pleasure. 

Why,  now  I  thank  you  both. 

(Court 

Cho.  Let  the  City,  the  Country,  the  Camp  and  the 
Be  the  places  of  pleasure  and  Royal  resort, 
And  let  us  observe  in  the  midst  of  our  sport, 
That  Fidelity  makes  us  as  firm  as  a  Fort : 
A  Union  well-grounded  no  malice  can  hurt. 

[This  ends  Part  First,  in  the  Edition  of  Merry  Drollery,  1661.] 


The  Indifferent  Lover. 

ve's  fiery  passions  can  a 
er  yielding  pleasure  or  p 
I  like  a  mild  and  lukewarm  zeal  in  love, 


NO  man  Love's  fiery  passions  can  approve, 
As  either  yielding  pleasure  or  promotion  :  \  < 
like  a  mild  and  lukewarm  zeal  in  love, 
Although  I  do  not  like  it  in  devotion  :  \T 


For  it  hath  no  coherence  with  my  Creed, 
To  think  that  lovers  mean  as  they  pretend  : 
If  all  that  said  they  died,  had  died  indeed, 
Sure  long  ere  this  the  World  had  had  an  end. 


Some 


1 88  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

Some  one  perhaps  of  long  Consumption  dried, 
And  after  falling  into  love  might  dye, 
But  I  dare  swear  he  never  yet  had  died 
Had  he  been  half  so  sound  at  heart  as  I. 

Another,  rather  than  incur  the  slander 
Of  true  Apostate,  will  false  Martyr  prove ; 
I'll  neither  Orpheus  be,  nor  yet  Leander, 
I'll  neither  hang  nor  drown  my  self  for  love. 

Yet  I  have  been  a  Lover  by  report, 
And  I  have  died  for  Love  as  others  do, 
Prais'd  be  Great  Jove  I  died  in  such  a  sort, 
As  I  revived  within  an  hour  or  two. 

Thus  have  I  hVd,  thus  have  I  lov'd,  till  now, 
And  ne'r  had  reason  to  repent  me  yet, 
And  whosoever  otherwise  shall  do, 
His  courage  is  as  little  as  his  wit. 


Loves  Torment. 

WHen  blind  God  Cupid,  all  in  an  angry  mood, 
And  Cythera,  the  fairest  Queen  of  Love, 
Did  leave  Sylvanus  pleasant  shadowed  woods, 
And  mounted  up  into  the  Heavens  above, 
Even  then  when  Sol, 
Even  then  when  Sol 

In 


Complete.  189 

In  water  set  his  bed, 

Did  seek  to  hide, 

Did  seek  to  hide 
His  golden  shining  head. 

Like  Philomel,  all  in  a  doleful  wise, 
I  pass  the  silent  coloured  night  in  woe  ; 
No  rest  nor  sleep  can  seize  upon  my  eyes, 
Oh  cruel  beauty  that  did  torment  me  so  ! 

No  one  can  tell, 

No  one  can  tell 
How  I  in  sorrows  dwelt, 

Save  only  she, 

Save  only  she 
That  hath  like  Passions  felt. 

The  night  is  past  all,  and  Aurora  red 
Begins  to  show  her  ruby-coloured  face, 
Leaving  Old  Tytan  and  his  aged  head, 
The  cloudy  darkness  from  the  skies  to  chase  ; 

Ah  my  poor  heart, 

Ah  my  poor  heart 
In  flames  of  fire  doth  fry ; 

I  live  in  love, 

I  love  and  live, 
I  live,  and  yet  I  dye. 

Each  pretty  little  bird  injoys  his  Mate, 
And  gently  billing  sits  upon  a  Tree, 

And 


i  go  Merry  Drollery, 

And  on  the  Verdant  shadowed  woods  do  prate, 
Chirping  their  Notes  with  pleasant  Harmony  ; 
I  wish  my  Love, 
I  wish  my  Love    - 
My  pretty  bird  may  be 
To  ease  my  grief, 
To  ease  my  grief 
And  cure  my  malady. 

The  Rebel  Red-coat. 

COme  Drawer,  come  fill  us  about  more  wine, 
Let  us  merrily  tipple,  the  day  is  our  own, 
We'll  have  our  delights,  let  the  Country  go  pine, 

Let  the  King  and  the  Kingdom  groan : 
For  the  day  is  our  own,  and  so  shall  continue, 

Whilst  Monarchy  we  baffle  quite, 
We'll  spend  all  the  Kingdoms  Revenue, 

And  sacrifice  all  to  delight : 
'Tis  power  that  brings  us  all  to  be  Kings, 

And  we'll  be  all  crown'd  by  our  might. 

A  fig  for  Divinity,  Lecture  and  Law 

And  all  that  to  Royalty  do  pretend,        [Loyalty] 
We  will  by  our  Swords  keep  the  kingdoms  in  aw, 

And  our  power  shall  never  have  end  : 
The  Church  and  the  State  we'll  turn  into  liquor, 

And  spend  a  whole  town  in  a  day, 

Wei 


Complete.  191 

[We'll  melt  all  their  Bodkins  the  quicker 

Into  Sack,  and  so  drink  them  away, 
(We'll  spend  the  demeans  o'  th'  Bishops  &  Deans, 

And  over  the  Presbyter  sway. 

tThe  nimble  St.  Patrick  is  sunk  in  a  bog, 

'    And  his  Country-men  sadly  cry,  Oh  hone,  Oh  hone, 

St.  Andrew  and  's  kirk-men  are  lost  in  a  fog, 

1    And  we  are  the  Saints  alone  : 

(Thus  on  our  superiours  and  equals  we  trample, 

Whilst  Jockie  the  stirrop  shall  hold, 
[The  Citie's  our  Mule  for  example, 

While  we  thus  in  plenty  are  rolPd, 
5ach  delicate  Dish  shall  but  answer  our  wish, 

And  our  drink  shall  be  cordial  Gold. 


Love  lies  a  bleeding:  In  Imitation  of 
Law  lies  a  bleeding. 

LAy  by  your  pleading, 
Love  lies  a  bleeding, 

3urn  all  your  Poetry,  and  throw  away  your  reading. 
Piety  is  painted, 
And  Truth  is  tainted, 
_x)ve  is  a  reprobate,  and  Schism  now  is  Sainted, 
The  Throne  Love  doth  sit  on, 

We  dayly  do  spit  on, 

It 


192  Merry  Drollcrie, 

It  was  not  thus  I  wis,  when  Betty  ruPd  in  Britain, 

But  friendship  hath  faultred, 

Loves  Altars  are  altered,  (tred. 

And  he  that  is  the  cause,  I  would  his  neck  were  hal- 

When  Love  did  nourish 

England  did  flourish, 
Till  holy  hate  came  in  and  made  us  all  so  currish. 

Now  every  Widgeon 

Talks  of  Religion, 
And  doth  as  little  good  as  Mahomet  and  his  Pidgeon. 

Each  coxcombe  is  suiting 

His  words  for  confuting,  (puting. 

But  heaven  is  sooner  gain'd  by  suffering  than  by  dis- 

True  friendship  we  smother, 

And  strike  at  our  Brother  [:] 

Apostles  never  went  to  God  by  killing  one  another. 

Let  Love  but  warm  ye 

Nothing  can  harm  ye, 
When  Love  is  General,  there's  Angels  in  the  Army. 

Love  keeps  his  quarters, 

And  fears  no  tortures,  (tyrs. 

The  bravest  fights  are  written  in  the  Book  of  Mar- 
Could  we  be  so  civill 

As  to  do  good  for  evill 
It  were  the  only  happy  way  to  o'recome  the  divel. 

The  Flowers  Love  hath  watred, 

Seditions 


Complete.  193 

Sedition  hath  scattred,  (of  hatred. 

We  talk  with  tongues  of  holiness,  but  act  with  hearts 

He  that  doth  know  me, 

And  love  will  shew  me, 
Hath  found  the  nearest  noble  way  to  overcome  me. 

He  that  hath  bound  me, 

And  then  doth  wound  me,  (me. 

Wins  not  my  heart,  doth  not  conquer,  but  confound 

In  such  a  condition 

Love  is  the  physitian, 
True  Love  and  Reason  makes  the  purest  politician. 

But  strife  and  confusion, 

Deceit  and  delusion, 
Though  it  seem  to  thrive  at  first  will  make  a  sad 

(conclusion. 

Love  is  a  fewel, 

A  pretious  Jewel,  (the  duel. 

Tis  Love  must  stanch  the  blood  when  Fury  fights 

Love  is  a  loadstone, 

Hate  is  a  bloodstone,  (stone. 

Heaven  is  the  North  Point,  and  Love  is  the  Load- 
Though  fury  and  scorn 

Loves  Temples  have  torn, 
He'll  keep  his  Covenant,  and  will  not  be  forsworn. 

His  Laws  do  not  border 

On  strife  and  disorder, 
He  scorns  to  get  his  wealth  by  perjury  and  murder. 
N  What 


194  Merry  Dr oiler ie, 

What  falshood  drew  in, 

Grace  never  grew  in, 
Love  will  not  raise  him  upon  anothers  mine. 

He  can  present  ye 

With  peace  and  plenty,  (twenty. 

Love  never  advanceth  one  by  throwing  down  of 

Where  Love  is  in  season, 

There  Truth  is  and  Reason, 
The  soul  of  Love  is  never  underlaid  with  Treason. 

He  never  doth  quarrel 

For  Princely  apparrel, 
Nor  ever  fixed  a  chair  of  state  upon  a  barrel. 

Love  from  the  dull  pit 

Of  Follies  full  pit 
Never  took  an  Anvil  out,  and  put  it  in  a  pulpit. 

Love  is  no  sinker, 

Truth  is  no  slinker, 
In  mending  breaches  Love  did  never  play  the  tinker. 

Where  Vengeance  and  Lust  is, 

No  truth  nor  trust  is, 
As  will  appear  at  last  in  Gods  high  Court  of  Justice. 

Pity  and  remorse  is 

The  strength  of  Loves  Forces, 
Paul  never  converted  men  by  stables  filPd  with 

(horses. 

Mercy  is  fading, 

Truth  is  degrading, 

Love  is  the  only  cause  of  Plenty,  Peace,  &  Trading. 

Love 


Complete.  195 

Love  is  a  fire 

Made  of  desire, 
Whose  chief  Ambition  is  to  heaven  to  aspire. 

It  stops  the  gradation 

Of  fury  and  passion,  (Nation, 

t  governs  all  good  Families,  and  best  can  guide  a 

The  Low  Land,  the  high  Land, 

And  my  Land,  and  thy  Land, 
rrew  all  in  common  straight  when  Love  had  left 

(this  Island. 

Where  peace  is  panting, 

And  rage  is  ranting, 
an  undoubted  sign  the  King  of  Love  is  wanting. 

Father  and  Mother, 

Sister  and  Brother, 
F  Love  be  lacking,  quickly  mischief  one  another. 

Where  wrath  is,  the  rod  is 

That  ruines  our  bodies  ; 
/1th  hate  the  divel  is,  but  where  Love  is  God  is. 

Then  let  us  not  doubt  it, 

But  streight  go  about  it, 
o  bring  in  Love  again,  we  cannot  live  without  it. 

Then  let  the  Graces 

Crown  our  embraces, 
nd  let  us  settle  all  things  in  their  proper  places. 

Lest  persecution 

Cause  dissolution, 
2t  all  purloyned  wealth  be  made  a  restitution. 

N  2  For 


196  Merry  Drollerie, 

For  though  now  it  tickles, 

Twill  turn  all  to  prickles,  (sickles. 

Then  let's  live  in  peace,  and  turn  our  Swords  to 

When  Noah's  Dove  was  sent  out, 

Then  Gods  Pardon  went  out,  (it. 

They  that  would  have  it  so,  I  hope  will  say  Amen  to 


A  Catch. 

BRing  forth  your  Cunny  skins,  fair  maids,  to  me, 
And  hold  them  fair  that  I  may  see 
Gray,  Black,  and  blew ;  for  your  smaller  skins 
I'll  give  you  Glasses,  Laces,  Pins  : 
And  for  your  whole  Cunny 
I'll  give  you  ready  money. 

Come,  gentle  Jone,  do  thou  begin 
With  thy  black,  black,  black  Cunny  skin, 
And  Mary  then,  and  Kate  will  follow 
With  their  silver'd-hair'd  skins,  and  their  yellow ; 
Your  white  Cunny  skin  I  will  not  lay  by, 
Though  it  be  fat,  it  is  [not]  fair  to  the  Eye. 

Your  gray  it  is  warm,  but  for  my  money 
Give  me  the  bonny,  bonny  black  Coney; 
Come  away,  fair  maids,  your  skins  will  decay, 
Come  and  take  money,  maids,  put  your  ware  away; 
I  have  fine  Bracelets,  Rings, 

And  I  have  silver  Pins  ; 

Cone] 


Complete.  197 


Coney  skins,  Coney  skins, 
Maids,  have  you  any  Coney  skins. 


A   Catch  of  the  Beggars. 

FRom  hunger  and  cold  who  lives  more  free, 
Or  who  lives  a  merrier  life  than  we ; 
Our  bellies  are  full,  and  our  backs  are  warm, 
And  against  all  Pride  our  Rags  are  a  Charm  ; 
Enough  is  a  feast,  and  for  to  morrow 
Let  rich  men  care,  we  feel  no  sorrow. 

The  City,  and  Town,  and  every  village 

Afford  us  [either]  an  Alms,  or  a  Pillage ; 

And  if  the  weather  be  cold  and  raw, 

Then  in  a  Barn  we  tumble  in  straw  : 

If  fair  and  warm,  in  yea-Cock  and  nay-Cock 
The  Fields  afford  us  a  hedge  or  a  hey-Cock. 


The  Time-server. 

ROom  for  a  Gamester  that  plaies  at  all  he  sees, 
Whose  fickle  fancy  fits  such  times  as  these, 
One  that  saies  Amen  to  every  factious  prayer, 

From  Hugh  Peters  Pulpit  to  S.  Peters  Chair, 
One  that  doth  defie  the  Crosier  and  the  Crown, 
But  yet  can  bouze  with  Blades  that  Carrouze 

N  3  Whilst 


198  Merry  Drollerie, 

Whilst  Pottle-pots  tumble  down,  dery  down  ; 
One  that  can  comply  with  Surplice  and  with  Cloak, 
Yet  for  his  end  can  I  depend,  [Independ] 

Whilst  Presbyterian  broke  Britains  yoke. 

This  is  the  way  to  trample  without  trembling, 

Tis  the  Sycophant's  only  secure, 
Covenants  and  Oaths  are  badges  of  dissembling, 

Tis  the  politick  pulls  down  the  pure : 
To  Profess  and  betray,  to  plunder  and  pray, 
Is  the  only  ready  way  to  be  great, 

Flattery  doth  the  feat : 
Ne'r  go,  ne'r  stir,  will  venter  further 
Than  the  greatest  Dons  in  the  Town, 

From  a  Copper  to  a  Crown. 

I  am  in  a  temp'rate  humour  now  to  think  well, 
Now  I'm  in  another  for  to  drink  well, 
Then  fill  us  up  a  Beer-boul  boys,  that  we 

May  drink  it  merrily, 
No  knavish  Spy  shall  understand, 
For  if  it  should  be  known, 

'Tis  ten  to  one  we  shall  be  trapan'd. 

I'll  drink  to  thee  a  brace  of  quarts, 
Whose  Anagram  is  call'd  True  Hearts, 
If  all  were  well  as  I  would  ha't, 
And  Britain  cur'd  of  its  tumour, 


Complete.  199 

I  should  very  well  like  my  Fate, 
And  drink  my  Sack  at  a  cheaper  rate, 

Without  any  noise  or  rumour, 

Oh  then  I  should  fix  my  humour. 

But  since  'tis  no  such  matter,  change  your  hue, 

I  may  cog  and  flatter,  so  may  you  : 
Religion  is  a  Widgeon,  and  Reason  is  a  Treason, 

And  he  that  hath  a  Loyal  heart  may  bid  the  world 

(adieu. 
We  must  be  like  the  Scottish  man, 

Who  with  intent  to  beat  down  Schism, 
Brought  in  the  Presbyterian, 

With  Canon  and  with  Catechism  : 
If  Beuk  won't  do't,  then  jockey  shoot, 

For  the  Kirk  of  Scotland  doth  command, 
And  what  hath  been,  since  they  came  in, 

I  think  w'  have  cause  to  understand. 


A  Song. 

GAther  your  Rose-buds  while  you  may, 
Old  time  is  still  a  flying, 
For  that  Flower  that  smells  to  day, 
To  morrow  will  be  dying. 

That  Age  is  best,  which  if  she  force  [is  the  first,] 
While  youth  and  blood  are  warmer, 

N  4  But 


2OO  Merry  Dr oiler  ie, 

But  being  [spent]  she  grows  worse  and  worse, 
And  [Times]  still  succeeds  the  former. 

The  glorious  Lamp  of  Heaven,  the  Sun, 
The  higher  he's  a  getting, 
The  sooner  will  his  race  be  Run, 
And  nearer  to  his  setting. 

Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time, 
And  while  you  may,  go  marry, 
For  if  you  lose  but  once  your  prime 
You  may  for  ever  tarry. 

/ 

v~ 

The  Gelding  of  the  Dtvel. 

A  Story  strange  I  will  you  tell 
Of  the  gelding  of  the  Divel  of  hell, 
And  of  the  Baker  of  Mansfield  Town, 
That  sold  his  bread  both  white  and  brown  ; 
To  Nottingham  Market  he  was  bound, 
And  riding  under  the  Willows  clear 
The  Baker  sung  with  a  merry  chear. 

The  Bakers  horse  was  lusty  and  sound, 
And  worth  in  Judgement  full  five  pound  ; 
His  skin  was  smooth,  and  his  flesh  was  fat, 
His  Master  was  well  pleas'd  with  that, 
Which  made  him  sing  so  merry,  merrily 
As  he  was  passing  on  the  way. 


Complete.  201 

But  as  he  rode  over  the  hill 
There  met  him  two  divels  of  hell : 

0  Baker,  Baker,  then  cry'd  he, 
How  comes  thy  horse  so  fat  to  be  ? 
These  be  the  words  the  Baker  did  say, 
Because  his  stones  are  cut  away. 

Then,  quoth  the  divel,  if  it  be  so, 
Thou  shalt  geld  me  before  thou  dost  go ; 
First  tye  thy  horse  to  yonder  tree, 
And  with  thy  knife  come  and  geld  me ; 
The  Baker  he  had  a  knife  for  the  nonce 
Wherewith  to  cut  out  the  devils  stones. 

The  Baker,  as  it  came  to  pass, 
In  haste  alighted  from  his  horse, 
And  the  divel  on  his  back  he  lay, 
While  the  Baker  cut  his  stones  away, 
Which  put  the  divel  to  great  pain 
And  made  him  to  cry  out  amain. 

O,  quoth  the  divel,  beshrew  thy  heart, 
Thou  dost  not  feel  how  I  do  smart, 
And  for  the  deed  that  thou  hast  done 

1  will  revenged  be  agen, 

And  underneath  this  Green-wood  tree 
Next  Market  day  I  will  geld  thee. 

The 


2O2  Merry  Drollerie, 

The  Baker  then  but  a  little  said, 
But  at  his  heart  was  sore  afraid  ; 
He  durst  no  longer  then  to  stay, 
But  he  rode  hence  another  way  : 
And  coming  to  his  Wife,  did  tell 
How  he  had  gelt  the  divel  of  hell. 

Moreover  to  his  Wife  he  told 

A  tale  that  made  her  heart  full  cold, 

How  that  the  divel  to  him  did  say, 

That  he  would  geld  him  next  Market  day  : 

O,  quoth  the  good  wife,  without  doubt 

I  had  rather  both  thy  eyes  were  out. 

For  then  all  the  people  far  and  near, 
That  know  thee,  will  but  mock  and  jeer, 
And  good-wives  they  will  scold  and  brawl, 
And  stoneless  Gelding  will  thee  call ; 
Then  hold  content,  and  be  thou  wise, 
And  I'll  some  pretty  trick  devise. 

I'll  make  the  divel  change  his  note, 
Give  me  thy  Hat,  thy  Band,  and  Coat, 
Thy  Hose  and  Doublet  eke  also, 
And  I  like  to  a  man  will  go  ; 
I'll  warrant  thee  next  Market  day 
To  fright  the  divel  clean  away. 

Wher 


w 


Complete.  203 


When  the  Bakers  wife  was  so  drest, 
With  all  her  bread  upon  her  beast, 
To  Nottingham  Market,  that  brave  Town, 
To  sell  her  bread,  both  white  and  brown, 
And  riding  merrily  over  the  hill, 

0  there  she  spy'd  the  two  divels  of  hell. 

A  little  divel,  and  another, 
As  they  were  playing  both  together ; 
Oh  ho,  quoth  the  divel,  right  fain, 
Here  comes  the  Baker  riding  amain : 
Now  be  thou  well,  or  be  thou  woe, 

1  will  geld  thee  before  thou  dost  go. 

The  Bakers  wife  to  the  divel  did  say, 
Sir,  I  was  gelded  yesterday  : 
O,  quoth  the  divel,  I  mean  to  see ; 
And  pulling  her  coats  above  her  knee, 
And  so  looking  upward  from  the  ground, 
O  there  he  spy'd  a  terrible  wound. 

O,  quoth  the  divel,  now  I  see 
That  he  was  not  cunning  that  gelded  thee, 
For  when  that  he  had  cut  out  the  stones, 
He  should  have  closed  up  the  wounds, 
But  if  thou  wilt  stay  but  a  little  space 
I'll  fetch  some  salve  to  cure  the  place. 

He 


2O4  Merry  Drollerie, 

He  had  not  ran  but  a  little  way, 

But  up  her  belly  crept  a  Flea : 

The  little  divel  seeing  that, 

He  up  with  his  paw  and  gave  her  a  pat, 

Which  made  the  good  wife  for  to  start, 

And  with  that  she  let  go  a  rowzing  fart. 

O,  quoth  the  divel,  thy  life  is  not  long 
Thy  breath  it  smells  so  horrible  strong, 
Therefore  go  thy  way,  and  make  thy  will, 
Thy  wounds  are  past  all  humane  skill ; 
Be  gone,  be  gone,  make  no  delay, 
For  here  thou  shalt  no  longer  stay. 

The  good  wife  with  this  news  was  glad, 
But  she  left  the  divel  almost  mad  ; 
And  when  she  to  her  husband  came, 
With  a  joyful  heart  she  told  the  same, 
How  she  had  couzned  the  divel  of  hell, 
Which  pleas'd  her  Husband  wondrous  well. 


The  Vagabond. 

I   Am  a  Rogue,  and  a  stout  one, 
A  most  couragious  drinker : 
I  do  excell,  it's  known  full  well, 
The  Ratter,  Tom,  or  Tinker: 

Then 


Complete.  205 

Then  do  I  cry,  Good  your  Worship 
Bestow  some  small  Denier  a, 
And  bravely  then  at  the  bouking  Ken 
I'll  bouze  it  all  in  beera. 

My  dainty  Dames  and  Doxes, 
When  that  they  see  [me]  lacking, 
Without  delay,  poor  wretches,  they 
Will  send  the  Duds  a  packing : 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

Ten  miles  into  a  Market 
I  go  to  meet  a  Miser, 
And  in  the  throng  I'll  nip  a  bung, 
And  the  party  ne'r  the  wiser : 
Then  do  I  cry,  ore. 

If  the  Gentry  be  coming, 
Then  streight  it  is  my  fashion, 
My  leg  I'll  tye  close  to  my  thigh 
To  move  them  to  compassion  : 
Then  do  I  cry,  6°<r. 

When  I  hear  a  Coach  come  rumbling, 
To  my  Crutches  streight  I  hye  me, 
For  being  lame,  it  is  a  shame 
Such  Gallants  should  deny  me ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

My 


206  Merry  Drollery, 

My  Peg  in  a  string  doth  lead  me 
When  I  go  into  the  Town,  Sir, 
For  to  the  blind  all  men  are  kind, 
And  with  [?  will]  their  Alms  bestow,  Sir ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

I'  th'  winter  time  stark  naked 
I  go  into  some  City, 
And  every  man,  that  spare  them  can, 
Will  give  me  cloaths  for  pity ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

My  doublet  sleeves  hang  empty, 
And  for  to  beg  the  bolder, 
For  meat  and  drink  my  arm  I'll  shrink 
Up  close  unto  my  shoulder, 
Then  do  I  cry,  &>c. 

If  any  gives  me  lodging 
A  courteous  knave  they  find  me, 
For  in  my  bed,  alive,  or  dead, 
I  leave  some  Lice  behind  me ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

If  from  out  the  Low  Countries 
I  hear  a  Captains  name,  Sir, 
Then  straight  I'll  swear  I  have  been  there, 
And  so  in  fight  came  lame  Sir ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 


In 


Complete.  207 

In  Pauls  Church-yard  by  a  Filler 
Sometimes  you  see  me  stand,  Sir, 
With  a  writ  that  shews  what  cares,  what  woes 
I  have  past  by  Sea  and  Land,  Sir  ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  6°<r. 

Come  buy,  come  buy  a  Horn-book, 
Who  buys  my  Pins  and  Needles  : 
Such  things  do  I  in  the  City  cry 
Oftimes  to  scape  the  Beadles  ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 

Then  blame  me  not  for  begging, 
And  boasting  all  alone,  Sir, 
My  self  I  will  be  praising  still, 
For  Neighbours  I  have  none,  Sir ; 
Then  do  I  cry,  &c. 


The  Jovial  Loyallist. 

STay,  shut  the  Gate, 
T'other  quart,  'faith  'tis  not  so  late 

As  your  thinking, 
The  Stars  which  you  see  in  the  Hemisphere  be, 
Are  but  studs  in  our  cheeks  by  good  drinking  ; 
The  Sun's  gone  to  tipple  all  night  in  the  Sea  boys, 
To  morrow  he'll  blush  that  he's  paler  than  we  boys, 
Drink  wine,  give  him  water,  'tis  Sack  makes  us  the 

(boys. 
Fill 


208  Merry  Drollerie, 

Fill  up  the  Glass, 
To  the  next  merry  Lad  let  it  pass, 

Come  away  with't : 

Let's  set  foot  to  foot,  and  but  give  our  minds  to't, 
Tis  heretical  Six  that  doth  slay  wit  : 
Then  hang  up  good  faces,  let's  drink  till  our  noses 
Give  freedom  to  speak  what  our  fancy  disposes, 
Beneath  whose  protection,  now  under  the  rose  is. 

Drink  off  your  Bowl, 
'Twill  enrich  both  your  head  and  your  soul 

With  Canary ; 

For  a  carbuncl'd  face  saves  a  tedious  race, 
And  the  Indies  above  us  we  carry : 
No  Helicon  like  to  the  juice  of  good  wine  is, 
For  Phoebus  had  never  had  wit  that  divine  is, 

Had  his  face  not  been  bow-dy'd  as  thine  is,  &  mine 

(is. 

This  must  go  round, 
Off  with  your  hats  till  the  pavement  be  crown'd 

With  your  Bevers. 

A  Red-coated  face  frights  a  Sergeant  and  his  Mace, 
Whilst  the  Constable  trembles  to  shivers, 
In  state  march  our  faces  like  some  of  the  quorum, 
While  the  whores  do  fall  down,  &  the  vulgar  adore 

'urn, 

And  our  noses  like  Link-boys  run  shining  before 
'um. 

Merry 


209 

MERRY 

DROLLERY, 

Complete. 

OR, 

A    COLLECTION 

f  Jovial  Poems, 
Of  <  Merry  Songs, 
\  Witty  Drolleries, 

Intermixed  with  Pleasant  Catches. 

The  Second  Part. 


The 


2 1  o  The  Second  Part  of 


The  Answer. 

HOld,  quaff  no  more, 
But  restore, 

If  you  can,  [what]  you've  lost  by  your  drinking, 
Three  Kingdoms  and  Crowns, 
With  their  cities  and  Towns, 
While  the  King  and  his  Progeny  is  sinking ; 
The  studs  in  your  cheeks  have  obscur'd  his  star,  boys, 
Your  drink  and  miscarriages  in  the  late  war,  boys 
Hath  brought  his  Prerogative  thus  to  the  Bar,  boys. 

Throw  down  the  Glass, 

He's  an  ass 

That  extracts  all  his  worth  from  Canary  : 
That  valour  will  shrink, 
Which  is  only  good  in  drink, 
Twas  the  Cup  made  the  Camp  to  miscarry. 
Ye  thought  in  the  world  there  was  no  power  could 

tame  ye, 

Ye  tipled  and  whor'd  till  the  Foe  overcame  ye, 
Cuds-nigs  and  ne'r-stir  Sir,  hath  vanquisht  God- 
dam: me. 

Fly  from  the  coast, 
Or  y'  are  lost, 

And  the  water  will  run  where  the  drink  went, 

From 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  21 1 

From  hence  you  must  slink, 

If  you  swear  and  have  no  chink, 
Tis  the  curse  of  a  Royal  Delinquent.         [?  course] 
Ye  love  to  see  Beer  bowls  turn'd  over  the  thumb 

Well, 
Ye  love  three  fair  Gamesters,  four  Dice  and  a  Drum 

Well, 
3ut  you'd  as  live  see  the  divel  as  Oliver  Cromwel, 

Drink  not  the  round, 

You'll  be  drown'd 

n  the  source  of  your  Sack  and  your  Sonnets, 
Try  once  more  your  Fate 
For  the  Kirk  against  the  State,  [?  King] 

Vnd  go  barter  your  Bever  for  Bonnets  : 

see  how  you'r  charm'd  by  your  female  inchanters, 
\nd  therefore  pack  hence  to  Virginia  for  planters, 
7or  an  act  and  two  red-coats  will  rout  all  the  Ran- 
ters. 


A  Catch.          Q      , 

Had  she  not  care  enough,  care  enough,      \/ 
Care  enough  of  the  old  man  ? 
She  wed  him,  she  fed  him, 
And  to  the  bed  she  led  him  ; 
For  seven  long  winters  she  lifted  him  on  : 
But  oh  how  she  negl'd  him,  negl'd  him, 
Oh  how  she  negl'd  him  all  the  night  long  ! 
o  2 


2 1 2  The  Second  Part  of 


A  Catch. 

Here's  a  Health  unto  his  Majesty  with  a  Fa  la  la,  6°<r. 

Conversion  to  his  enemies  with  a  Fa  la  la,  6°^. 

And  he  that  will  not  pledge  this  Health, 

I  wish  him  neither  wit  nor  wealth, 

Nor  yet  a  Rope  to  hang  himself  with  a  Fa  la  la,  &c. 

Good  Advice  against  Treason. 

BUT  since  it  was  lately  enacted  high  Treason 
For  a  man  to  speak  truth  against  the  head  of  a 
State, 
Let  every  wise  man  make  use  of  his  reason,      (prate, 

To  think  what  he  will,  but  take  heed  what  he 
For  the  Proverb  doth  learn  us,  (skin, 

He  that  staies  from  the  battel  sleeps  in  a  whole 
And  our  words  are  our  own,  if  we  keep  them  within, 
What  fools  are  we  then  that  to  prattle  do  begin, 
Of  things  that  do  not  concern  us. 

Tis  no  matter  to  me  who  e'r  gets  the  battel, 

The  Tubs  or  the  Crosses,  'tis  all  one  to  me, 

It  neither  increaseth  my  goods  nor  my  cattel, 
A  beggar's  a  beggar,  and  so  he  shall  be, 

Unless  he  turn  Traytor. 

Let  Misers  take  courses  to  hoard  up  their  treasure, 
Whose  bounds  have  no  limits[,]  whose  minds  have 

no  measure, 

But 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  213 

Let  me  be  but  quiet,  and  take  a  little  pleasure, 
A  little  contents  my  own  nature. 

But  what  if  the  Kingdom  returns  to  one  of  the 
Prime  ones  ? 

My  mind  is  a  Kingdom,  and  so  it  shall  be, 
I'll  make  it  appear,  if  I  had  but  the  time  once, 

He's  as  happy  in  one,  as  they  are  in  three, 
If  he  might  but  enjoy  it : 

He  that's  mounted  aloft,  is  a  mark  for  the  Fate, 

And  an  envy  to  every  pragmatical  pate, 
Whilest  he  that  is  low  is  safe  in  his  estate, 

And  the  great  ones  do  scorn  to  annoy  him. 

I  count  him  no  wit  that  is  gifted  in  rayling, 

And  flurting  at  those  that  above  him  do.  sit, 
Whilst  they  do  out-wit  him  with  whipping  and  goaling, 

His  purse  and  his  person  must  pay  for  his  wit : 
But  it  is  better  to  be  drinking,  [:] 

If  Sack  were  reform'd  to  twelve  pence  a  quart, 

I'd  study  for  money  to  Merchandize  for't, 
With  a  friend  that  is  willing  in  mirth  we  would  sport, 

Not  a  word  ;  but  we'd  pay  it  with  thinking. 

My  petition  shall  be  that  Canary  be  cheaper, 

Without  either  Custom,  or  cursed  Excize, 
That  the  wits  may  have  freedom  to  drink  deeper 

and  deeper, 

And  not  be  undone  whilst  our  Noses  we  baptize, 
But  we'll  liquor  them,  and  drench  them  ; 

o  3  If 


2 1 4  The  Second  Part  of 

If  this  were  but  granted,  who  would  not  desire, 

To  dub  himself  one  si  Apollo's  acquire?  [own  quire] 

And  then  we  will  drink  whilst  our  Noses  are  on  fire, 
And  the  quart-pots  shall  be  Buckets  to  quench 
them. 


The  feasting  of  the  Divel\\\  by  Ben 
Johnson. 

COok-Lauret  would  needs  have  the  divel  his  guest 
And  bad  him  once  into  the  Peake  to  dinner ; 
Where  never  the  Fiend  had  such  a  Feast 
Provided  him  at  the  charge  of  a  sinner. 

His  stomack  was  queasie  (for  comming  there  coacht) 
The  jogging  had  caused  some  crudities  rise, 

To  help  it  he  calPd  for  a  Puritan  poacht, 
That  used  to  turn  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes 

And  so  recovered  unto  his  wish, 

He  sate  him  down,  and  he  fell  to  eat ; 

Promooter  in  plum-broath  was  the  first  dish  ; 
His  own  privy  Kitchin  had  no  such  meat. 

Yet  though  with  this  he  much  were  taken, 
Upon  a  sudden  he  shifted  his  trencher ; 

As  soon  as  he  spide  the  bawd,  and  bacon, 
By  this  you  may  note  the  divel's  a  wencher. 

Six 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  2 1 5 

Six  pickled  Taylors  sliced  and  cut, 

Sempsters,  Tire-women  fit  for  his  pallet, 

With  feather-men,  and  perfumers  put, 

Some  twelve  in  a  Charger  to  make  a  grand  sallet. 

A  rich  fat  Usurer  .stew'd  in  his  Marrow, 

And  by  him  a  Lawyers  head  and  Green-sawce ; 

Both  which  his  belly  took  in  like  a  barrow, 
As  if  till  then  he  had  never  seen  sawce. 

Then  carbinadoed,  and  cookt  with  pains 
Was  brought  up  a  cloven  Serjeant's  Face  ; 

The  sawce  was  made  of  the  Yeomans  brains, 
That  had  been  beaten  out  with  his  own  Mace. 

Two  roasted  Sheriffs  came  whole  to  the  board, 
(The  Feast  had  nothing  been  without  7um,) 

Both  living  and  dead  they  were  Fox'd  and  Fur'd  ; 
Their  chains  like  Sawsages  hung  about  'um. 

The  very  next  dish  was  the  Mayor  of  a  town, 

With  a  pudding  of  maintenance  thrust  in  his  belly, 

Like  a  Goose  in  the  Feathers  drest  in  his  Gown, 
And  his  couple  of  Hinch  boys  boyPd  to  a  jelly. 

A  London  Cuckold  hot  from  the  spit, 
And  when  the  Carver  up  had  broke  him, 

The  divel  chopt  up  his  head  at  a  bit,  (him 

But  the  horns  were  very  near  like  to  have  choakt 

Q  4  The 


2 1 6  The  Second  Part  of 

The  Chine  of  a  Leacher  too  there  was  roasted, 
With  a  plump  Harlots  haunch  and  Garlick ; 

A  Panders  pettitoes  that  had  boasted 

Himself  a  Captain,  yet  never  was  warlike. 

A  large  fat  Pasty  of  a  Mid-wife  hot, 

And  for  a  cold  bak't  meat  into  the  story, 

A  reverend  painted  Lady  was  brought, 

And  coffind  in  crust,  till  now  she  was  hoary. 

To  these,  an  over-grown-Justice  of  peace 

With  a  Clark  like  a  gizard  thrust  under  each  arm, 

And  warrants  for  sippets,  laid  in  his  own  grease 
Set  over  a  chafing-dish  to  be  kept  warm. 

The  Jowle  of  a  Jaylor  served  for  Fish, 

A  Constable  souz'd  with  Vinegar  by, 
Two  Alder-men  Lobsters  asleep  in  a  dish, 

A  Deputy  tart,  a  Church-warden  pye. 

All  which  devoured,  he  then  for  a  close, 

Did  for  a  full  draught  of  Darby  call, 
He  heaVd  the  huge  Vessel  up  to  his  Nose, 

And  left  not  till  he  had  drunk  up  all. 

Then  from  Table  he  gave  a  start, 

Where  banquet  and  wine  were  nothing  scarce ; 
All  which  he  started  away  with  a  Fart, 

From  whence  it  was  called  the  divels  Arse. 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  217 

*• 
And  there  he  made  such  a  breach  with  the  wind, 

The  hole  too  standing  open  the  while, 
That  the  scent*  of  the  Vapour  before  and  behind, 
Hath  foully  perfum'd  most  part  of  the  Isle. 

And  this  was  Tobacco,  the  Learned  suppose, 
Which  since  in  Country,  Court,  and  Town, 

In  the  divels  Glister-pipe  smoakes  at  the  Nose 
Of  Polcat  and  Madam,  of  Gallant,  and  Clown. 

From  which  wicked  weed,  with  swines-flesh  &  Ling, 
Or  any  thing  else  that's  feast  for  the  Fiend, 

Our  Captains  and  we  cry  God  save  the  King, 
And  send  him  good  meat,  &  Mirth  without  end. 


A  Catch. 

A     Fig  for  care,  why  should  we  spare  [?] 
.XjL     The  Parish  is  bound  to  find  us, 
For  thou  and  I  and  all  must  dye, 

And  leave  the  world  behind  us. 

The  Clerk  shall  Sing,  the  Bells  shall  Ring 

And  the  Old  Wives  wind  us ; 
Sir  John  shall  lay  our  Bones  in  Clay, 

Where  no  body  means  to  find  us. 

The 


2 1 8  The  Second  Part  of 


The  Virtue  of  Wine. 

LEt  Souldiers  fight  for  praise,  and  pay, 
And  Money  bid  the  Misers  wish ; 
Poor  Scholars  study  all  the  day, 
And  gluttons  glory  in  their  dish ; 

'Tis  wine,  'tis  wine  revives  sad  souls, 
Therefore  give  me  the  chearing  bowls. 

Let  Minions  marshal  every  hair, 
And  in  a  Lovers  lock  delight, 
And  artificial  colours  wear, 
We  have  the  native  red  and  white ; 
Tis  wine,  Pure  wine,  &c. 

Take  Pheasant,  Puet,  and  Culvered  Salmon, 
And  how  to  please  your  Pallats  think : 
Give  me  a  salt  Westphalia  gammon, 
Not  meat  to  eat,  but  meat  to  drink  ;     [?  but  meet] 
Tis  wine,  pure  wine,  &c. 

Some  have  the  Ptysick,  some  the  Rheume, 
Some  have  the  Palsie,  some  the  Gout ; 
Some  swell  with  fat,  and  some  consume, 
But  they  are  sound  that  drink  all  out ; 
Tis  wine,  tis  wine,  &v. 

Some 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  219 

Some  men  want  Wit,  and  some  want  Wealth ; 
Some  want  a  Wife,  and  some  want  a  Punk ; 
Some  men  want  Food,  and  some  want  Health, 
But  he  wants  nothing  that  is  drunk  ; 
Tis  wine,  'tis  pure  wine,  &c. 

It  makes  the  backward  spirits  brave, 

Them  lively,  that  before  were  dull ; 

Those  grow  good  Fellows  that  are  grave, 
kindness  springs  from  Cups  brim-full ; 
'Tis  wine,  'tis  wine  revives  sad  soules, 
Therefore  give  me  the  Charming  bowles. 


A  Catch. 

NE'er  trouble  thy  self  at  the  times  or  their  turnings, 
Afflictions  run  Circular  and  wheele  about, 
Away  with  thy  murmurings,  &  thy  heart  burnings, 

With  the  juice  of  the  Grape  we'll  quench  the  fire 

(out. 

Ne'er  chain  nor  imprison  thy  soul  up  in  sorrow, 
What  failes  us  to  day,  may  befriend  us  to  morrow, 
Let  us  scorn  our  content  from  others  to  borrow. 

A 


22O  The  Second  Part  of 


A  Catch. 

THree  merry  boys  came  out  of  the  West, 
To  make  Salt-peter  strong ; 
They  turn'd  it  into  Gunpowder, 

To  charge  the  Kings  Canon  ; 
And  so  let  this  health  go  round,  go  round, 

And  so  let  this  health  go  round, 
Although  thy  stocking  be  made  of  Silk 

Thy  knee  shall  touch  the  ground. 
God  bless  his  Majesty, 

And  send  him  Victory. 
Over  his  Enemy's 

All  or  none. 


A  Loves  Song. 

CAlm  was  the  Evening,  and  clear  was  the  Skie, 
And  new  budding  Flowers  did  spring, 
When  all  alone  went  Amyntas  and  I 
To  hear  the  sweet  Nightingale  sing. 
I  sate,  and  he  laid  him  down  by  me, 
And  scarcely  his  breath  he  could  draw, 
But  when  with  a  fear, 
He  began  to  come  near, 
He  was  dasht  with  a  ah,  ah,  ah. 

I 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  221 

He  blusht  to  himself,  and  lay  still  for  awhile, 
Lnd  his  modesty  curb'd  his  desire, 
nt  streightly  [I]  convinc'd  all  his  fears  with  a  smile, 
Lnd  added  new  flames  to  his  fire, 
.h,  Silvia,  said  he,  you  are  cruel, 
b  keep  your  poor  Lover  in  awe, 
Then  once  more  he  prest 
With  his  hands  to  my  brest, 
3ut  was  dasht  with  a  ah,  ah,  ah. 

I  knew  'twas  his  passions  caus'd  all  his  fear, 
Ind  therefore  I  pitied  his  case, 
whisper'd  him  softly,  there's  nobody  near, 
Vnd  laid  my  cheek  close  to  his  face : 
But  as  he  grew  bolder  and  bolder, 
shepheard  came  by  us  and  saw, 
And  just  as  our  bliss 
Began  with  a  Kiss  : 
Fie  burst  out  with  a  Ha,  Ha,  ha,  Ha. 


The  Brewers  Praise. 

T  Here's  many  a  blinking  verse  was  made  [clinching] 
In  honour  of  the  Blacksmiths  trade, 
But  more  of  the  Brewers  may  be  said, 
Which  nobody  can  deny. 

I 


222  The  Second  Part  of 

I  need  not  else  but  this  repeat, 
The  Blacksmith  cannot  be  compleat, 
Unless  the  Brewer  do  give  him  a  heat, 

Which  no  body,  &c. 

f 

When  Smug  unto  his  Forge  doth  come 
Unless  the  Brewer  doth  liquor  him  home 
Could  ne'er  strike  my  pot  and  thy  pot  Tom, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Of  all  the  Professions  in  the  Town, 
This  Brewers  trade  did  gain  renown, 
His  liquor  once  reacht  up  to  the  Crown, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Much  bloud  from  him  did  spring, 
Of  all  the  trades  this  was  the  King, 
The  Brewer  had  got  the  world  in  a  sling, 
Which  no  body,  drr. 

Though  Honour  be  a  Princess  daughter, 
The  Brewer  will  woe  her  in  bloud  and  slaughter, 
And  win  her,  or  else  it  shall  cost  him  hot  water, 
Which  no  body,  &*c. 

He  fear'd  no  pouder,  nor  martial  stops, 
But  whipt  Armies  as  round  as  tops, 
And  cut  off  his  foes  as  thick  as  hops, 
Which  no  body,  &*c. 

He 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  223 

le  div'd  for  riches  down  to  the  bottom, 
md  cri'd,  my  Masters,  when  he  had  got  'urn, 
,et  every  Tub  stand  upon  his  own  bottom, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

n  warlike  Arts  he  scorn'd  to  stoop, 
or  when  his  party  began  to  droop, 
le'd  bring  them  all  up  as  round  as  a  hoop, 
Which  no  body,  &C. 

"he  Jewish  Scots,  who  fear  to  eat 
lie  flesh  of  Swine,  our  brewers  beat,  (treat[,] 

Twas  the  sight  of  their  hogsheads  made  them  to  re 
Which  no  body,  6^:. 

oor  Jockie  and  his  basket  hilt 
Vas  beaten,  and  much  bloud  was  spilt, 
Vhen  their  bodies,  like  barrels,  did  run  a  tilt, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

hough  Jemmy  did  give  the  first  assault, 
'he  Brewer  he  made  them  at  length  to  hault, 
d  gave  them  what  the  Cat  left  in  the  mault, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

'hey  did  not  only  bang  the  Kirk, 

hit  in  Ireland  too  they  did  as  much  work, 

Twas  the  Brewer  made  them  surrender  Cork, 

Which  no  body,  &>c. 

This 


224  The  Second  Part  of 

This  was  a  stout  Brewer,  of  whom  we  may  brag, 
But  since  he  was  hurried  away  with  a  hag, 
We  have  brew'd  in  a  bottle,  and  bak'd  in  a  bag, 
Which  no  body,  6°^. 

They  said  that  Antichrist  came  to  settle 
Religion  within  a  Cooler  and  a  Kettle, 
His  Nose  and  his  Copper  were  both  of  a  mettle, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

He  had  a  strong,  and  a  very  stout  heart, 
And  look'd  to  be  made  an  Emperour  for't, 
But  the  Divel  did  set  a  spoke  in  his  Cart, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

The  Christian  Kings  began  to  quake, 
And  said,  with  that  Brewers  no  quarrels  we'll  make, 
We'll  let  him  alone,  as  he  brews  let  him  bake, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

But  yet  by  the  way  you  must  needs  understand, 
He  kept  all  his  Passions  so  under  command, 
Pride  never  could  get  the  upper-hand, 
Which  no  body,  &>c. 

And  now  may  all  stout  souldiers  say, 
Farewell  the  glory  of  the  Dray, 
For  the  Brewer  himself  is  turn'd  to  Clay, 
Which  no  body,  6°^. 

Thus 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  225 

Thus  fell  a  brave  Brewer  the  bold  son  of  slaughter, 
Who  need  not  to  fear  much  what  should  follow  after, 
That  dealt  all  his  life-time  in  fire  and  water, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

And  if  his  Successor  had  had  but  his  might, 
We  all  had  not  been  in  that  pitiful  plight, 
But  alas,  he  was  found  many  grains  to[o]  light, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Though  Wine  be  a  Juice  sweet,  pleasant,  and  pure, 
This  Trade  doth  such  pleasure  and  profit  procure, 
That  every  Vintner  in  Town  is  turn'd  Brewer, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

But  now  let's  leave  singing,  and  drink  off  our  Bub, 
Let's  call  for  a  Reckoning,  and  every  man  club, 
For  I  think  I  have  told  you  a  Tale  of  a  Tub, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

£         — ^ 
The  Song  of  the  Blacksmith.  ^Y^ 

OF  all  the  Trades  that  ever  I  see,  (be  ; 

There's  none  to  the  Blacksmith  compared  may 
With  so  many  several  tooles  works  he, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

The  first  that  ever  Thunderbolts  made 
Was  a  Cyclops  of  the  Blacksmiths  Trade, 
As  in  a  Learned  Author  is  said, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

p  When 


226  The  Second  Part  of 

When  thundring  like  we  strike  about, 
The  fire  like  Lightning  flashes  out, 
Which  suddenly  with  water  we  d'  out, 
Which  no  body,  &>c. 

The  fairest  Goddess  in  the  skies, 
To  marry  with  Vulcan  did  advise, 
And  he  was  a  Blacksmith  grave  and  wise, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Vulcan  he  to  do  her  right, 
Did  build  her  a  Town  by  day  and  by  night, 
Ami  gave  it  a  name  which  was  Hammersmiths  hight, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Vulcan  further  did  acquaint  her, 
That  a  pretty  Estate  he  would  appoint  her, 
And  leave  her  Seacoal-lane  for  a  Joynter, 
Which  no  body,  6°^. 

And  that  no  enemy  might  wrong  her, 
He  built  her  a  fort,  you'd  wish  no  stronger, 
Which  was  in  the  lane  of  Ironmonger, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Smithfield  he  did  cleanse  from  durt, 
And  sure  there  was  great  Reason  for  \ 
For  there  he  meant  she  should  keep  her  Court, 
Which  no  body,  &°c. 


But 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  227 

But  after  in  a  good  time  and  tide, 
It  was  by  the  Blacksmith  rectifi'd 
To  the  honour  of  Edmund  Ironside, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Vulcan  after  made  a  traine, 
Wherein  the  God  of  war  was  tane 
Which  ever  since  hath  been  call'd  Pauls  chaine, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

The  common  Proverb  as  it  is  read, 
That  a  man  must  hit  the  naile  on  the  head, 
Without  the  Blacksmith  cannot  be  said, 
Which  no  body,  6°^ 

Another  must  not  be  forgot, 
And  falls  unto  the  Blacksmiths  lot, 
That  a  man  strike  while  the  Iron  is  hot, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Another  comes  in  most  proper  and  fit, 
The  Blacksmiths  justice  is  seen  in  it, 
When  you  give  a  man  roast  &  beat  him  with  the  spit 
When  no  body,  &c. 

Another  comes  in  our  Blacksmiths  way, 
When  things  are  safe,  as  old  wives  say, 
We  have  them  under  lock  and  key, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

P.  2  Another 


228  The  Second  Part  of 

Another  that's  in  the  Blacksmiths  books, 
And  only  to  him  for  remedy  looks, 
Is  when  a  man's  quite  off  the  hooks, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Another  Poverb  to  him  doth  belong, 
And  therefore  let's  do  the  Blacksmith  no  wrong, 
When  a  man's  held  to  it  buckle  and  thong, 
Which  no  body,  6°^. 

Another  Proverb  doth  make  me  laugh, 
Wherein  the  Blacksmith  may  challenge  half, 
When  a  Reason's  as  plain  as  a  Pike  staffe, 
Which  no  body,  drc. 

Though  your  Lawyers  travel  both  near  and  far, 
And  by  long  pleading  a  good  cause  may  mar, 
Yet  your  Blacksmith  takes  more  pains  at  the  Bar, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Though  your  Scrivener  seek  to  crush  and  to  kill 
By  his  counterfeit  deed,  and  thereby  doth  ill, 
Yet  your  Blacksmith  may  forge  what  he  will, 
Which  no  body,  &>c. 

Though  your  bankrupt  Citizens  lurk  in  their  holes, 
And  laugh  at  their  Creditors,  and  their  Catchpoles, 
Yet  your  Blacksmith  can  fetch  them  over  the  coals, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Though 


Merry  Dr oiler ie,  Complete.  229 

Though  Jockie  in  the  stable  be  never  so  neat, 
To  look  to  his  nag,  and  prescribe  him  his  meat, 
Yet  your  Blacksmith  knows  better  how  to  give  a 

Which  no  body,  drv.  (heat, 

If  any  Taylor  have  the  Itch, 
The  Blacksmiths  water,  as  black  as  pitch, 
Will  make  his  hands  go  thorough  stitch, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

There's  never  a  slut,  if  filth  o'r  smutch  her, 
But  owes  to  the  Blacksmith  for  her  leacher, 
For  without  a  pair  of  tongues  there's  no  man  will 

Which  no  body,  6°<r.  (touch  her, 

Your  roaring  boy,  who  every  one  Quails, 
Fights,  domineers,  swaggers,  and  rayls, 
Could  never  yet  make  the  Smith  eat  his  Nails, 
Which  no  body,  &*c. 

If  a  Schollar  be  in  doubt, 
And  cannot  well  bring  his  matter  about, 
The  Blacksmith  he  can  hammer  it  out, 
Which  no  body,  &>c. 

Now  if  to  know  him  you  would  desire, 
You  must  not  scorn,  but  rank  him  higher, 
For  what  he  gets,  is  out  of  the  fire, 
Which  no  body,  &>c. 

p  3  Now 


230  The  Second  Part  of 

Now  here's  a  good  health  to  Blacksmiths  all, 
And  let  it  go  round,  as  round  as  a  ball ; 
We'll  drink  it  all  off,  though  it  cost  us  a  fall, 
Which  nobody  can  deny. 


The  Gypsies,  a  Catch. 

COme  my  dainty  doxies, 
My  Dove,  my  Darle,  my  Dear, 

We  have  neither  meat  nor  drink, 

Yet  never  want  good  chear ; 

We  take  no  care  for  Candle,  Rents, 
We  lye,  we  swear,  we  snort  in  Tents, 

Come  rouse  betimes 

All  you  that  love  your  dinners, 
Our  store  now  taken 
With  Pigs,  Hens,  and  Bacon, 

And  that's  good  meat  for  sinners. 

At  Fairs  and  Wakes  we  cuzzen 
Poor  Country  Folk  by  the  dozen  ; 

Some  come  to  disburses, 

And  some  to  pick  purses  ; 

We  for  want  of  use 

We  steal  both  hose  and  shooes, 

Gilded  Spurs  with  jingling  Rowels, 
Shirts  or  Smocks,  Sheets  or  Towels  ; 


Come 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  231 

Come  live  with  us  all  you  that  love  your  ease, 
He  that's  a  Gipsie  may  be  drunk  when  he  please, 
We  laugh,  we  quaff,  we  roar,  we  snuffle 
We  drink,  we  Drab,  we  cheat,  we  shuffle. 


In  imitation  of  Come  my  Daphne,  a 
Dialogue  betwixt  Pluto  and  Oliver. 

Pluto.    /^~^Ome  Imp  Royal,  come  away, 

\^_s  Into  black  night  we  will  turn  bright  day. 
Oliver.  Tis  Pluto  calls,  what  would  my  Syre  ? 
Pluto.   Come  follow  to  the  Stygian  fire. 

Where  Ireton  doth  wait  to  welcome  thee  in 

(State. 
Oliver.  Were  I  in  bed  with  my  sweet  wife, 

I'd  quit  those  joys  for  such  a  life. 
Pluto.  My  princely  Nol  make  hast, 

For  thee  we  keep  a  fast. 
Oliver.  In  these  dismal  shades  will  I 

Unto  thee  unfold  my  Villany. 
Pluto.  In  my  bosome  I'll  thee  lay, 

For  thy  sake  we'll  all  keep  holy  day. 

Chorus.  We'll  rage  and  roar,  and  fry  in  flames 
And  Charles  himself  shall  see 
How  damn'dly  we  agree, 
Yet  scorn  to  change  our  Chains 
For  his  Eternal  diety.  [Deity] 

P  4  A 


232  The  Second  Part  of 


A  Catch. 

(for  me, 

THe  wise  men  were  but  seven,  ne'r  more  shall  be 
The  Muses  were  but  9,  the  worthies  3  times  3  : 
And  three  merry  boys,  &  three  merry  boys  are  we  ; 

The  Vertues  were  but  seven,  &  three  the  greater  be ; 
The  C&sars  they  were  twelve,  &  the  fatal  Sisters  three  ; 

And  three  merry  Girles,  &  three  merry  Girles  are 

(we. 


The  Power  of  Wine. 

HOw  poor  is  his  Spirit,  how  lost  is  his  name  ? 
Deceiveth  Opinion,  and  curtels  his  Fame, 
When  as  his  design  turns  neer  to  their  hate, 
'Twixt  shall  I, and  shall  I  suspects  their  o[w]ne  wai[gh]t, 
Hath  traffick't  for  honour,  but  lost  the  whole  fraight, 
He  that's  slout  in  the  front,  but  not  so  in  the  rear, 
Doth  forfeit  his  Fame,  and  is  cowed  down  by  fear. 

A  small  part  of  honour  to  him  doth  belong, 
Consults  not  his  glory,  but  faints  in  the  throng, 
That  fears  to  embrace  what  his  Country  doth  vote, 
And  yields  up  her  liberty  to  a  Red-coat ; 
Sure  Midsummer  is  near,  and  some  men  do  doat, 

I 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  233 

I  like  the  bold  Romans,  whose  fame  ever  rings  [,] 
That  kept  in  subjection  such  pitiful  things. 

He  that  will  be  Bug-bear'd  is  turn'd  again  Child, 
A  Reed  than  a  Scepter  is  fitter  to  weild  : 
Examine  that  story,  no  story  you'll  find 
Than  saving  that  story  that  Cat  will  to  kind; 
The  world  is  deluded,  the  Commonwealth  blind, 
Your  false  stamps  of  honor  proves  but  copper  mettle  [,] 
And  Fame  sounds  as  loud  from  a  tinkers  old  kettle. 

He  that  hath  past  the  Pike,  and  found  Canon-free, 
Which  shews  that  no  curse  from  his  Parents  could  be, 
Had  a  soul  so  devout  [it]  made  killing  a  trade, 
And  now  to  retreat  at  the  scent  of  a  blade,     (made, 
Doth  show  of  what  mould  our  Knight-errant  is 
He  that  flags  in  his  flight  when  his  ambition  soars 
Doth  stab  his  own  merit,  &  gives  fame  the  lye.    (high 

Then  C&m?-like  you  gown-men  drench  cares, 
O'rwhelm'd  with  your  own  &  your  Countries  affairs, 
And  Pulpit-men  to  be  as  ayry  as  he ; 
Do  you  but  preach  Sack  up  well  ne'r  disagree 
That  Commonwealth's  best  that  is  the  most  free, 
Then  fret  not,  nor  care  not,  when  the  Sack's  in  our 
We  fancy  a  King  up,  or  fancy  him  down.         (Crown, 


The 


234  The  Second  Part  of 


The  Mad  Zealot. 

AM  I  mad,  O  noble  Festus, 
When  zeal  and  godly  knowledge 
Have  put  me  in  hope 
To  deal  with  the  Pope, 
As  well  as  the  best  in  the  Colledge  ? 

Boldly  I  preach,  hate  a  Cross,  hate  a  Surplice, 
Miters,  Copes,  and  Rochets  : 
Come  hear  me  pray  nine  times  a  day, 
And  fill  your  heads  with  Crotchets. 

In  the  house  of  pure  Emanuel 
I  had  my  Education, 
Where  my  friends  surmise 
I  dazelFd  mine  eyes 
With  the  light  of  Revelation, 
Boldy  I  preach,  6°£ 

They  bound  me  like  a  Beldam        [Bedlam] 
They  lasht  my  four  poor  quarters  ; 
Whilst  this  I  endure, 
Faith  makes  me  sure 
To  be  one  of  Foxes  Martyrs, 
Boldly  I  preach,  6°^. 

These 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  235 

These  injuries  I  suffer 
Through  Antichrists  perswasions ; 
Take  off  this  chain, 
Neither  Rome  nor  Spain 
Can  resist  my  strong  invasions, 
Boldly  I  preach,  6°£ 

Of  the  beasts  ten  horns  (God  bless  us) 
I  have  knockt  off  three  already  : 
If  they  let  me  alone, 
I'll  leave  him  none  : 
But  they  say  I  am  too  heady. 
Boldly  I  preach,  6*<r. 

When  I  sack'd  the  seven  hilPd-City, 
I  met  the  great  red  Dragon  : 
I  kept  him  aloof, 
With  the  armour  of  proof, 
Though  here  I  have  never  a  rag  on  : 
Boldly  I  preach,  &c. 

With  a  fiery  Sword  and  Target 
There  fought  I  with  this  Monster  : 
But  the  sons  of  pride 
My  zeal  deride, 
And  all  my  deeds  misconster. 
Boldly  I  preach,  &c. 


236  The  Second  Part  of 

I  unhers'd  the  whore  of  Babel 
With  a  Lance  of  Inspirations  : 
I  made  her  stink, 
And  spill  her  drink 
In  the  cup  of  Abominations, 
Boldly  I  preach,  &°<r. 

I  have  seen  two  in  a  Vision, 
With  a  flying  Book  between  them  : 
I  have  been  in  despair 
Five  times  a  year, 
And  cur'd  by  reading  Greenham, 
Boldly  I  preach,  &c. 

I  observed  in  Perkins  Tables 
The  black  Lines  of  Damnation, 
Those  crooked  veins 
So  stuck  in  my  brains, 
That  I  fear'd  my  Reprobation, 
Boldly  I  preach,  &c. 

In  the  holy  land  of  Canaan 
I  plac'd  my  chiefest  pleasure, 
Till  I  prick'd  my  foot 
With  an  Hebrew  root, 
That  I  bled  beyond  all  measure, 
Boldly  I  preach,  &c. 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  237 

I  appeared  before  th'  Archbishop, 

And  all  the  High  Commission  : 

I  gave  him  no  Grace, 

But  told  him  to  his  face 

That  he  favoured  Superstition, 

Boldly  I  preach,  hate  a  Cross,  hate  a  Surplice, 
Miters,  Copes,  and  Rochets : 
Come  hear  me  pray  nine  times  a  day 
And  fill  your  heads  with  Crotchets. 


Drunk  with  Love. 

IDoat,  I  doat,  but  am  a  Sot  to  shew  it, 
I  was  a  very  fool  to  let  her  know  it, 
For  now  she  doth  so  cunning  grow, 
And  proves  a  friend  worse  than  a  Foe, 
She  will  not  hold  me  fast,  nor  let  me  go  : 
She  tells  me  I  cannot  forsake  her, 
Then  straight  I  endeavour  to  leave  her, 
But  to  make  me  stay  throws  a  kiss  in  my  way, 
O  then  I  could  tarry  for  ever. 

Thus  I  retire,  salute,  and  sit  down  by  her 
There  do  I  fry  in  frost,  and  freeze  in  fire ; 
Now  nectar  from  her  lips  I  sup, 
And  though  I  cannot  drink  all  up, 
Yet  I  am  Fox'd  with  kissing  of  the  Cup  : 

For 


238  The  Second  Part  of 

For  her  lips  are  two  brimmers  of  Clarret, 
Where  first  I  began  to  miscarry, 
Her  breasts  of  delight  are  two  bottles  of  White, 
And  her  eyes  are  two  cups  of  Canary. 

Drunk,  as  I  live,  dead  drunk  beyond  reprieve, 
For  all  my  secrets  dribble  through  a  sieve ; 
About  my  neck  her  arms  she  layeth, 
Now  all  is  Gospel  that  she  saith, 
Which  I  lay  hold  on  with  my  fudled  faith ; 
I  find  'a  fond  Lover's  a  Drunkard, 
And  dangerous  is  when  he  flies  out, 
With  hips,  and  with  lips,  with  black  eyes  &  white 
Blind  Cupid  sure  tipled  his  eyes  out.  (thighs 

She  bids  me  rise,  tells  me  I  must  be  wise, 
Like  her,  for  she's  not  in  love  she  cries ; 
This  makes  me  fret,  and  fling,  and  throw, 
Shall  I  be  fetter'd  to  my  foe  ? 
I  begin  to  run,  but  cannot  go ; 

I  prethee,  sweet,  use  me  more  kindly, 

You  were  better  to  hold  me  fast, 

If  you  once  disengage  your  bird  from  his  cage, 

Believe  it  he'll  leave  you  at  last. 

Like  Sot  I  sit  that  fill'd  the  Town  with  wit, 
But  now  confess  I  have  most  need  of  it ; 
I  have  been  fox'd  with  Duck  and  Deer 

Above  a  quarter  of  a  year 

Beyond 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  239 

Beyond  the  cure  of  sleeping,  or  small  beer ; 
I  think  I  can  number  the  Months  too, 
July,  August,  September,  October, 
Thus  goes  my  account,  a  mischief  light  on't, 
But  sure  I  shall  go  when  I'm  sober. 

My  Legs  are  lam'd,  my  courage  is  quite  tam'd, 

My  heart  and  all  my  body  is  enflam'd, 

As  by  experience  I  can  prove, 

And  swear  by  all  the  Powers  above, 

Tis  better  to  be  drunk  with  wine  than  lovo  : 
For  'tis  Sack  makes  us  merry  and  witty, 
Our  foreheads  with  Jewels  adorning, 
Although  we  do  grope,  yet  there's  some  hope, 
That  a  man  may  be  sober  next  morning. 

Thus,  with  command,  she  throws  me  from  her  hand, 

And  bids  me  go,  yet  knows  I  cannot  stand ; 

I  measure  all  the  ground  by  trips, 

Was  ever  Sot  so  drunk  with  sips, 

Or  can  a  man  be  overseen  with  lips  ? 
I  pray  Madam  fickle  be  faithful, 
And  leave  off  your  damnable  dodging, 
Then  do  not  deceive  me,  either  love  me  or  leave 
Or  let  me  go  home  to  my  lodging.  (me, 

I  have  too  much,  and  yet  my  folly  is  such, 

I  cannot  [leave]  hold,  but  must  have  t'other  touch ; 

Here's  a  health  to  the  King :  how  now  ? 

In 


240  The  Second  Part  of 

I'm  drunk  and  speak  treason  I  vow, 
Lovers  and  Fools  say  any  thing  you  know  ; 
I  fear  I  have  tired  your  patience, 
But  I'm  sure  'tis  I  have  the  wrong  on't  ; 
My  wits  are  bereft,  and  all  I  have  left 
Is  scarce  enough  to  make  a  Song  on't  ; 
My  Mistris  and  I  shall  never  comply, 
And  there's  the  short  and  the  long  on't. 


A  Present  to  a  Lady. 

LAdies  I  do  here  present  you 
With  a  token  Love  hath  sent  you  ; 
Tis  a  thing  to  sport  and  play  with, 
Such  another  pretty  thing 
For  to  pass  the  time  away  with  ; 
Prettier  sport  was  never  seen  ; 

Name  I  will  not,  nor  define  it, 
Sure  I  am  you  may  devine  it  : 
By  those  modest  looks  I  guess  it, 
And  those  eyes  so  full  of  fire, 
That  I  need  no  more  express  it, 
But  leave  your  fancies  to  admire. 

Yet  as  much  of  it  be  spoken 
In  the  praise  of  this  love-token  : 
'Tis  a  wash  that  far  supasseth 


For 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  241 

For  the  cleansing  of  your  blood, 
All  the  Saints  may  bless  your  faces, 
Yet  not  do  you  so  much  good. 

Were  you  ne'r  so  melancholly, 
It  will  make  you  blithe  and  jolly ; 
Go  no  more,  no  more  admiring, 
When  you  feel  your  spleen's  amiss, 
For  all  the  drinks  of  Steel  and  Iron 
Never  did  such  cures  as  this. 

It  was  born  in  th'  Isle  of  Man 
Venus  nurs'd  it  with  her  hand, 
She  puffed  it  up  with  milk  and  pap, 
And  lulPd  it  in  her  wanton  lap, 
So  ever  since  this  Monster  can 
In  no  place  else  with  pleasure  stand. 

Colossus  like,  between  two  Rocks, 

I  have  seen  him  stand  and  shake  his  locks, 

And  when  I  have  heard  the  names 

Of  the  sweet  Saterian  Dames, 

O  he's  a  Champion  for  a  Queen, 

'Tis  pity  but  he  should  be  seen. 

Nature,  that  made  him,  was  so  wise 
As  to  give  him  neither  tongue  nor  eyes, 
Supposing  he  was  born  to  be 
The  Instrument  of  Jealousie, 

Q  Yet 


242  The  Second  Part  of 

Yet  here  he  can,  as  Poets  feign, 
Cure  a  Ladies  love-sick  brain. 

He  was  the  first  that  did  betray 
To  mortal  eyes  the  milky  way  ; 
He  is  the  Proteus  cunning  Ape 
That  will  beget  you  any  shape  ; 
Give  him  but  leave  to  act  his  part, 
And  he'll  revive  your  saddest  heart. 

Though  he  want  legs,  yet  he  can  stand, 
With  the  least  touch  of  your  soft  hand; 
And  though,  like  Cupid,  he  be  blind, 
There's  never  a  hole  but  he  can  find  ; 
If  by  all  this  you  do  not  know  it, 
Pray  Ladies  give  me  leave  to  shew  it. 


A  Combate  of  Cocks. 


>!    V 

'  jyv  *  f*  O  you  tame  Gallants,  you  that  have  the  name, 
VJT     And  would  accounted  be  Cocks  of  the  Game, 
That  have  brave  spurs  to  shew  for Y,  and  can  crow, 
And  count  all  dunghil  breed  that  cannot  shew 
Such  painted  Plumes  as  yours ;  that  think  no  vice, 
With  Cock-like  lust  to  tread  your  Cockatrice : 
TJiough  Peacocks,  Wood-cocks,  Weather-cocks  you  be, 
Iff  are  no  fighting-cocks,  fare  not  for  me : 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  243 

I  of  two  feather1  d  Combatants  will  write ', 
He  that  to  th  life  means  to  express  the  fight, 
Must  make  his  ink  tf  ttt  bloud  which  they  did  spill, 
And  from  their  dying  wings   borrow  his  quill. 

NO  sooner  were  the  doubtfull  people  set[, 
The  matches  made,  and  all  that  would  had  bet, 
But  straight  the  skilful  Judges  of  the  Play, 
Bring  forth  their  sharp-heel'd  Warriours,  and  they 
Were  both  in  linnen  bags,  as  if  'twere  meet, 
Before  they  dy'd  to  have  their  winding  sheet. 
With  that  in  th'  pit  they  are  put,  &  when  they  were 
Both  on  their  feet,  the  Norfolk  Chanticleere 
Looks  stoutly  at  his  ne'r-before  seen  foe, 
And  like  a  Challenger  begins  to  crow, 
And  shakes  his  wings,  as  if  he  would  display 
His  warlike  Colours,  which  were  black  and  gray  : 
Mean  time  the  wary  Wisbich  walks  and  breaths 
His  active  body,  and  in  fury  wreaths 
His  comely  crest,  and  often  looking  down, 
He  whets  his  angry  beak  upon  the  ground  : 
With  that  they  meet,  not  like  the  coward  breed 
Of  sEsop,  that  can  better  fight  than  feed. 
They  scorn  the  dung-hill,  'tis  their  only  prize, 
To  dig  for  Pearl  within  each  others  eyes  : 
They  fight  so  long,  that  it  was  hard  to  know 
To  th'  skilful,  whether  they  did  fight  or  no, 
Had  not  the  bloud  which  died  the  fatal  floor 

Born  witness  of  it ;  yet  they  fight  the  more, 

Q  2  As 


244  The  Second  Part  of 

As  if  each  wound  were  but  a  spur  to  prick 

Their  fury  forward  :  lightning's  not  more  quick 

Nor  red  than  were  their  eyes  :  'twas  hard  to  know 

Whether  'twas  bloud  or  anger  made  them  so  : 

And  sure  they  had  been  out,  had  they  not  stood 

More  safe  by  being  fenced  in  by  blood 

Yet  still  they  fight,  but  now  (alas)  at  length 

Although  their  courage  be  full  tried,  their  strength 

And  bloud  began  to  ebbe ;  you  that  have  seen 

A  water- combat  on  the  Sea,  between 

Two  roaring  angry  boyling  billows,  how 

They  march,  and  meet,  and  dash  their  curled  brows, 

Swelling  like  graves,  as  if  they  did  intend 

T'intomb  each  other,  ere  the  quarrel  end  : 

But  when  the  wind  is  down,  and  blustring  weather, 

They  are  made  friends,  &  sweetly  run  together,  (low[,J 

May  think  these  champions  such,  their  combs  grow 

And  they  that  leapt  even  now,  now  scarce  can  go : 

Their  wings  which  lately  at  each  blow  they  clapt    [,] 

(As  if  they  did  applaud  themselves)  now  flapt. 

And  having  lost  the  advantage  of  the  heel, 

Drunk  with  each  others  bloud  they  only  reel. 

From  either  eyes  such  drops  of  bloud  did  fall, 

As  if  they  wept  them  for  their  Funeral. 

And  yet  they  would  fain  fight,  they  come  so  near, 

As  if  they  meant  into  each  others  ear 

To  whisper  death  ;  and  when  they  cannot  rise, 

They  lie  and  look  blows  in  each  others  eyes. 

But 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  245 

But  now  the  Tragick  part  after  the  fight, 
When  Norfolk  Cock  had  got  the  best  of  it, 
And  Wisbich  lay  a  dying,  so  that  none, 
Though  sober,  but  might  venture  seven  to  one, 
Contracting  (like  a  dying  Tapre)  all 
His  force,  as  meaning  with  that  blow  to  fall ; 
He  struggles  up,  and  having  taken  wind, 
Ventures  a  blow,  and  strikes  the  other  blind. 
And  now  Poor  Norfolk  having  lost  his  eyes, 
Fights  only  guided  by  th'  Antipathies  : 
With  him  (alas)  the  proverb  holds  not  true, 
The  blows  his  eyes  ne'er  see,  his  heart  most  rue. 
At  length  by  chance,  he  stumbling  on  his  foe, 
Not  having  any  power  to  strike  a  blow, 
He  falls  upon  him  with  a  wounded  head, 
And  makes  his  conquered  wings  his  Feather-bed, 
Where  lying  sick,  his  friends  were  very  chary 
Of  him,  and  fetcht  in  haste  an  Apothecary ; 
But  all  in  vain,  his  body  did  so  blister, 
That  'twas  uncapable  of  any  Glister, 
Wheresoever  at  length,  opening  his  fainting  bill, 
He  call'd  a  Scrivener,  and  thus  made  his  Will. 

INprimis,  Let  it  never  be  forgot, 
My  body  freely  I  bequath  to  th  pot, 
Decently  to  be  boyPd,  and  for  its  tomb, 
Let  it  be  buried  in  some  hungry  womb. 
Item,  Executors  I  will  have  none, 
But  he  that  on  my  side  laid  seven  to  one  : 

Q  3  And 


246  The  Second  Part  of 

And  like  a  Gentleman  that  he  may  live, 
To  him  and  to  his  heirs  my  comb  I  give  ; 
Together  with  my  brains,  that  all  may  know, 
That  often  times  his  brains  did  use  to  crow. 
Item,  //  is  my  Will  to  the  weaker  ones, 
Whose  wives  complain  of  them,  I  give  my  stones , 
To  him  that's  dull,  I  do  my  spurs  impart, 
And  to  the  Coward,  I  bequeath  my  heart  : 
To  Ladies  that  are  light,  it  is  my  will, 
My  feathers  should  be  giv'n;  and  for  my  bill, 
Fl  giv't  a  Taylor,  but  it  is  so  short, 
That  I'm  afraid  he' I  rather  curse  me  for  V  .* 
And  for  the  Apothecaries  fee,  who  meant 
To  give  me  a  Glister,  let  my  Rump  be  sent. 
Lastly,  because  I  feel  my  life  decay, 
I  yield,  and  give  to  Wisbich  Cock  the  day. 


In  praise  of  Sack. 

COme  faith  let's  frolick,  fill  some  Sack, 
For  then  we  shall  not  lack 
Food  for  the  belly,  nor  physick  for  the  back, 

This  Beer  breeds  the  Chollick,  let  us  spread 
Our  Cheeks  with  Royal  Red, 
And  then  we'll  sing,  hey  toss  the  divel's  dead, 
To  Faction  we  never  more  will  bow  the  knee  : 
Great  Britains  fate  in  faith  'twas  long  of  thee. 

You 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  247 

You  may  see  what  Madam  England  hath  been  at 
When  we  behold  her  Nose  is  fain  so  flat. 

To  Wine  we'll  build  a  Shrine, 

And  an  Altar  divine, 
High  as  the  sign,  where  thy  red  nose  and  mine 

Like  Tapers  shall  shine  : 
Then  let's  drink  for  the  Bets,  'tis  the  loser  that  gets, 

In  spight  of  their  threats,  and  their  Creditors  nets, 
We'll  drink  off  our  debts, 

Where  he  that's  dead  drunk,  shall  be 
Laid  out  in  state,  as  well  as  he 

Whose  dignity  the  only  objects  be 
Of  new  Idolatry. 
We'll  guard  his  corps  like  a  Bride 

To  the  grave-side,  so  copious  and  wide, 
With  as  much  pride  as  he  that  lately  dyed, 

The  Railing  set  aside. 

Fifty  red-faces  free,  shall  his  Torch-bearers  be ; 
Six  maudlin  mourners  his  Coffin  shall  carry, 
There  we  will  tipple  free  unto  the  memory 
Of  our  fraternity  drown'd  in  Canary : 
In  the  Divel-Tavern  we  commonly  will  shew  him, 

We'll  bury  him  from  the  divel, 

Others  fair  men  to  him. 

We'll  be  blythe  and  trimmer, 
We'll  have  Musick  to[o] 


Q  4  Jews 


248  The  Second  Part  of 

Jews-harp,  tongues  and  Skimmer, 

Thy  Cup my  Cup 

Bar-boy  fill  the  other  brimmer, 

Fly  cup strike  up there  boy, 

Till  our  eyes  do  grow  dimmer. 

Money  shall  be  spent  in  Bays, 
Every  pen  shall  vent  a  praise 
And  a  Monument  we'll  raise 

Over  his  bones. 
Where  his  Epitaph  shall  be, 
That  he  dyed  in  Loyalty, 
Never  gain'd  by  Cruelty, 

Kingdoms,  nor  Crowns, 
That  he  never  lived  by  injury, 
Nor  confounded  men  for  forgery, 
Neither  put  a  prop  of  Perjury 

Under  his  thrones  ; 

That  although  he  drank  his  Cares  away, 
And  sometimes  his  Loyal  fears  away, 
Yet  he  never  drank  the  tears  away 

Of  Orphans  Groans. 

Thus  he  shall  be  both  frollick  and  free, 

Who's  kindly  kill'd  with  Canary, 
With  red  and  white,  or  other  delight, 

If  tippling  makes  him  miscarry, 
Provided  he  [a]  Bachanel  be, 

And  scorns  to  admit  of  a  parley, 

With 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  249 

With  Ale  or  Beer,  or  other  such  geer, 

Polluted  with  Hop  or  with  Barley,          [:] 

Good  wine  doth  ring,  like  Priest  and  King, 
But  'tis  Ale  that  looks  like  a  Lay-man, 

Then  for  the  Vineyard  draw  your  Whynyard, 
The  Divel  go  with  the  Dray-man. 


**•  A  Maidenhead. 

WHat  is  that  you  call  a  Maidenhead  ? 
A  thing  oft  smothered  in  a  bed, 
Which  some  have  now,  which  all  have  had, 
Which  freely  given  makes  one  sad. 

'Tis  got  for  nought  with  little  pain ; 
'Tis  kept,  but  lost,  not  got  again  ; 
'Tis  that  you  call  a  Maidenhead, 
By  proving  quick  'tis  ever  dead. 

A  lump  which  passes  bear  about  [lamp] 

Till  putting  in  doth  put  it  out ; 
A  herb  it  is  which  proves  a  weed 
When  first  the  husk  doth  bear  a  Seed. 

It's  that  a  Maidenhead  we  call, 
A  thing  by  standing  made  to  fall ; 
It  is  a  Maiden-head,  say  we, 
That's  kept  by  holding  close  the  knee. 

Which 


250  The  Second  Part  of 

Which  youths  were  often  used  to  lurch, 
Which  Brides  do  seldom  bear  to  Church  ; 
At  fifteen  rare,  at  eighteen  strange, 
Which  either  lose  when  two  do  change. 

That  f[l]it's  when  Maidens  begin  to  reak, 
When  ere  it  parts,  it  makes  them  squeak, 
And  being  gone,  they  streight  repent : 
This  by  a  Maidenhead  is  meant. 


\f    The  Night  encounter. 

WHen  Phoebus  had  drest  his  course  to  the  West 
To  take  up  his  rest  below, 
And  Cynthia  agreed  in  her  glittering  weed 
Her  light  in  his  stead  to  bestow  : 
I  walking  alone,  attended  by  none, 
I  suddenly  heard  one  cry, 

O  do  not,  do  not  kill  me  yet, 
For  I  am  not  prepared  to  dye. 

At  length  I  drew  near  to  see  and  to  hear, 
And  straight  did  appear  to  shew, 
The  Moon  was  so  bright,  I  saw  such  a  sight 
It's  fit  no  Wight  should  it  know  : 
A  man  and  a  maid  together  were  laid, 
And  ever  she  said,  nay  fie, 
O  do  not,  &><:. 

The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  251 

The  youth  was  so  tough  he  pulPd  up  her  stuff, 
And  to  blindman-buff  he  did  go, 
Though  still  she  did  lye,  yet  still  she  did  cry, 
And  put  him  but  by  with  a  no  ; 
But  he  was  so  strong,  and  she  was  so  young, 
But  she  rested  a  while  for  to  cry, 
O  do  not,  &c. 

Thus  striving  in  vain,  well  pleased  again, 
She  vowed  to  remain  his  foe, 
She  kept  such  a  coyl,  when  he  gave  her  the  foyl, 
The  greater  the  broyl  did  grow  ; 
For  he  was  prepar'd,  and  did  not  regard 
Her  words,  when  he  heard  her  cry, 
O  do  not,  &c. 

He  said  to  the  Maid,  Sweet  be  not  afraid, 

Thy  Physitian  I  will  be  ; 

If  I  light  in  the  hole  that  pleaseth  me  best, 

I'll  give  thee  thy  Physick  free  ; 

He  went  to  it  again,  and  hit  in  the  Vein 

Where  all  her  whole  grief  did  lye ; 

O  kill  me,  kill  me  once  again, 

For  I  am  prepared  to  dye. 

At  length  he  gave  o'r  and  suddenly  swore, 
He'd  kill  her  no  more  that  night, 
He  bid  her  adieu,  for  certain  he  knew 
She  wou'd  tempt  him  to  more  delight : 

But 


252  The  Second  Part  of 

But  when  they  did  part  it  went  to  her  heart, 
For  at  length  he  had  taught  her  to  cry, 
O  kill  me,  kill  me  once  again, 
For  now  I  am  prepared  to  dye. 


The  Protecting  Brewer. 

A  Brewer  may  be  a  Burgess  grave, 
And  carry  the  matter  so  fine  and  so  brave, 
That  he  the  better  may  play  the  Knave, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

A  Brewer  may  be  a  Parliament-man 
For  there  the  knavery  first  began, 
And  Brew  most  cunning  Plots  he  can, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A  Brewer  may  put  on  a  Nabal  face, 
And  march  to  the  Wars  with  such  a  grace, 
That  he  may  get  a  Captains  place, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A  Brewer  may  speak  so  monstrous  well,    [wondrous] 
That  he  may  raise  strange  things  to  tell, 
And  so  [to]  be  made  a  Colonel, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  253 

A  Brewer  may  make  his  foes  to  flee, 
And  raise  his  fortunes,  so  that  he 
Lieutenant  General  may  be, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A  Brewer  he  may  be  all  in  all, 
And  raise  his  powers  both  great  and  small, 
That  he  may  be  a  Lord  General, 
Which  no  body,  6*£ 

A  Brewer  may  be  like  a  Fox  in  a  Cub, 
And  teach  a  Lecture  out  of  a  Tub, 
And  give  the  wicked  world  a  rub, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A  Brewer  by's  Excise  and  Rate, 
Will  promise  his  Army  he  knows  what, 
And  set  it  upon  the  Colledge-gate, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Methinks  I  hear  one  say  to  me, 
Pray  why  may  nor  [not]  a  Brewer  be, 
Lord-Chancelour  o'  th'  University, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

A  Brewer  may  be  as  bold  as  a  Hector, 
When  he  has  drunk  off  his  cup  of  Nectar, 
And  a  Brewer  may  be  a  Lord  Protector, 
Which  no  body,  6°c. 

Now 


254  The  Second  Part  of 

Now  here  remains  the  strangest  thing, 
How  this  Brewer  about  his  liquor  doth  bring, 
To  be  an  Emperour,  or  a  King, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

A  Brewer  may  do  what  he  will, 
[And]  Rob  the  Church  and  State,  to  sell 
His  soul  unto  the  divel  of  hell, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

Cromwel's  Coronation. 

O  Liver,  Oliver,  take  up  thy  Crown, 
For  now  thou  hast  made  three  Kingdoms  thine 
Call  thee  a  Conclave  of  thy  whole  creation,        (own  ; 

To  ride  us  to  ruine,  who  dare  thee  oppose  : 

Whilst  we  thy  good  people  are  at  thy  devotion, 

To  fall  down  and  worship  thy  terrible  Nose. 

To  thee  and  thy  Mermydons  Oliver,  we, 

Do  tender  thy  [?  our]  homage  as  fits  thy  degree, 

We'll  pay  the  Exsize  and  Taxes,  God  bless  us, 
With  fear  and  contrition,  as  penitents  should, 

Whilst  you,  great  sirs,  vouchsafe  to  oppress  us, 
Not  daring  so  much  as  in  private  to  scold. 

(Sword. 

We  bow  down,  as  cow'd  down,  to  thee  &  thy 
For  now  thou  hast  made  thy  self  Englands  sole  Lord, 

By 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  255 

By  mandate  of  Scripture,  and  heavenly  warrant, 
The  Oath  of  Allegiance,  and  Covenant  too  ; 

To  Charles  &  his  Kingdoms  thou  art  Heir  apparent, 
And  born  to  rule  over  the  Turk  and  the  Jew. 

Then  Oliver,  Oliver,  get  up  and  ride,  (side, 

Whilst  Lords,  Knights,  &  Gentry,  do  run  by  thy 

The  Maulsters  and  Brewers  account  it  their  glory, 
Great  God  of  the  Grain-tub's  compared  to  thee  : 

All  Rebels  of  old  are  lost  in  their  story, 

Till  thou  Plod'st  along  to  the  Paddmgton-treQ. 


The  Drunkard. 

WHen  I  do  travel  in  the  night 
The  Brewers  dog  my  brains  do's  byte, 
My  heart  grows  heavy,  and  my  heels  grow  light, 
And  I  like  my  humour  well,  well, 
And  I  like  my  humour  well. 

When  with  upsie  freeze  I  line  my  head, 
My  Hostis  Sellar  is  my  bed, 
The  worlds  our  own,  and  the  divel  is  dead, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

Then  I'll  be  talking  of  matters  of  Court, 
About  the  taking  of  some  Fort, 
Then  I'll  swear  a  lye  is  true  report, 
And  I  like,  &v. 

Then 


256  The  Second  Part  of 

Then  I'll  be  talking  of  matters  of  State, 

Of  news  from  [the]  Pallatinate, 
What  Princes  are  confederate, 
And  1  like,  &c. 

If  my  Hostis  bids  me  pay  my  score, 
And  stand  if  I  can,  I  call  her  whore, 
I  feel  and  tumble  out  of  her  doore, 
And  I  like,  6°^. 

That  I  came  from  the  War,  I  roar  and  swear 
I  made  a  fellow  die  for  fear, 
How  many  I  killed  that  I  never  came  near, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

If  I  meet  with  a  Taylors  Stall, 
And  the  stones  with  my  nose  with  fighting  fall, 
We  kiss  and  are  friends,  and  so  there's  all, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

With  an  Indian  Chimney  in  my  hand, 
Having  a  Boy  at  my  command, 
Like  a  brave  Commander  up  I  stand, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

Then  I  justle  with  every  post  I  meet, 
I  kick  the  dunghils  about  the  street, 
I  trample  the  kennels  about  my  feet, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  257 

The  Constable  I  curse  and  ban, 
That  bids  me  stand  if  I  be  a  man, 
I  tell  him  he  bids  me  do  more  than  I  can, 
And  I  like,  &c. 


If  I  fall  to  the  ground,  and  the  watchmen  see 
And  ask  of  me,  if  I  foxed  be  ? 
I  tell  them  'tis  my  humility, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

Then  home  I  go,  and  my  Wife  doth  skold  [,] 

She  bawls  the  more  I  bid  her  hold, 
It  is  my  patience  makes  her  bold, 
And  I  like,  &c. 

Then  I  grope  to  bed,  but  miss  the  way, 
Forget  me  where  my  Cloaths,  I  lay, 
I  call  for  drink  by  break  of  day, 
And  I  like  my  humour  [well]. 


Song  of  Sir  Eglamore. 

Sir  Eglamore,  that  valiant  Knight,  fa,  la,  la,  la,  la, 
He  put  on  his  Sword,  &  he  went  to  fight,  fa,  la, 
And  as  he  rid  o'r  hill  and  dale, 
All  armed  in  his  Coat  of  Maile, 
Fa,  la,  la,  la,  fa,  la,  la,  lalla,  la. 

R  There 


258  The  Second  Part  of 

There  starts  a  huge  Dragon  out  of  his  Den,  fa,  la, 
Which  had  kilPd  I  know  not  how  many  men,  fa,  la, 
But  when  he  see  Sir  Eglamore, 
If  you  had  but  heard  how  the  Dragon  did  roar, 
Fa,  la,  la,  &*c. 

This  Dragon  he  had  a  plaguy  hard  hide,  fa,  la,  la, 
Which  could  the  strongest  steel  abide,  fa,  la,  la, 
He  could  not  enter  him  with  cuts, 
Which  vex'd  the  Knight  to  his  heart  bloud  &  guts, 
Fa,  la,  la,  &c. 

All  the  trees  in  the  wood  did  shake,  fa,  la,  la, 
Horses  did  tremble,  and  men  did  quake,  fa,  la,  la, 
The  birds  betook  them  to  their  peeping, 
Twould  have  made  a  mans  heart  to  fall  a  weeping, 
Fa,  la,  la. 

But  now  it  was  no  time  to  fear,  fa,  la,  la, 
For  it  was  time  to  fight  Dog,  fight  Bear,  fa,  la,  la, 
But  as  the  Dragon  yawning  did  fall, 
He  thrust  his  Sword  down  hilt  and  all, 
Fa,  la,  la. 

For  as  the  JCnight  in  Choller  did  burn,  fa,  la,  la, 
He  ought  the  Dragon  a  shrewd  good  turn,  fa,  la,  la, 
In  at  his  mouth  his  Sword  he  sent, 
The  hilt  appeared  at  his  fundament. 
Fa,  la,  la. 

Then 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  259 

Then  the  Dragon,  like  a  Coward,  began  to  flee,  fa,  la, 
Into  his  Den  that  was  hard  by,  fa,  la,  la, 
There  he  laid  him  down  and  roar'd, 
The  Knight  was  sorry  for  his  Sword, 
Fa,  la,  la, 

The  Sword  it  was  a  right  good  blade,  fa,  la,  la, 
As  ever  Turk  or  Spaniard  made,  fa,  la,  la, 
I,  for  my  part,  do  forsake  it, 
[And]  He  that  will  fetch  it,  let  him  take  it, 
Fa,  la,  la. 

When  all  was  done,  to  the  Alehouse  he  went,  fa,  la, 
And  presently  his  two  pence  he  spent,  fa,  la,  la, 
He  was  so  hot  with  tugging  with  the  Dragon, 
That  nothing  would  squench  him  but  a  [w]hole  flagon, 
.    Fa,  la,  la. 

Well,  now  let  us  pray  for  the  King  &  Queen,  fa,  la, 
And  eke  in  London  there  may  be  seen,  fa,  la,  la, 
As  many  Knights,  and  as  many  more, 
And  all  as  good  as  Sir  Eglamore, 

Fa,  la,  la,  la,  fa,  la,  la,  la,  lalla,  la. 


I 


The  Rump. 

F  none  be  offended  with  the  Scent, 

Though  I  foul  my  mouth,  I'll  be  content, 

R  2  To 


260  The  Second  Part  of 

To  sing  of  the  Rump  of  a  Parliament, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

I  have  som[e]times  fed  on  a  Rump  in  Souse, 
And  a  man  may  imagine  the  Rump  of  a  Louse ; 
But  till  now  was  ne'r  heard  of  the  Rump  of  a  house, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

There's  a  rump  of  beef,  and  the  rump  of  a  goose  [,] 
And  a  rump  whose  neck  was  hang'd  in  a  noose  ; 
But  ours  is  a  Rump  can  play  fast  and  loose, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

A  Rump  had  Jane  Shore,  and  a  Rump  Messaleen, 
And  a  Rump  had  Antonies  resolute  Queen ; 
But  such  a  Rump  as  ours  is,  never  was  seen, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Two  short  years  together  we  English  have  scarce 
Been  rid  of  thy  rampant  Nose  (old  Mars,) 
But  now  thou  hast  got  a  prodigious  Arse, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

When  the  parts  of  the  body  did  fall  out, 
Some  votes  it  is  like  did  pass  for  the  Snout  ; 
But  that  the  Rump  should  be  King  was  never  a 
Which  no  body,  &c.  (doubt 

A 


Merry  Drolleriey  Complete.  261 

A  Cat  has  a  Rump,  and  a  Cat  has  nine  lives, 
Yet  when  her  head's  off,  her  Rump  never  strives  ; 
But  our  Rump  from  the  grave  hath  made  two  re- 
Which  no  body,  &c.  (trives, 

That  the  Rump  may  all  their  enemies  quail, 
They'l  borrow  the  Divels  Coat  of  Mayl, 
And  all  to  defend  their  estate  in  Tayl, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

But  though  their  scale  now  seen  to  be  th'  upper, 
There's  no  need  of  the  charge  of  a  thanksgiving  supper, 
For  if  they  be  the  Rump,  the  Armies  their  Crupper, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

There  is  a  saying  belongs  to  the  Rump, 
Which  is  good  although  it  be  worn  to  the  stump  [,] 
That  on  the  Buttock,  I'll  give  thee  a  thump, 
Which  no  body,  d^<r. 

There's  a  Proverb  in  which  the  rump  claims  a  part, 
Which  hath  in  it  more  of  Sence  than  of  Art, 
That  for  all  you  can  do  I  care  not  a  fart, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

There's  another  Proverb  gives  the  Rump  for  his 
But  Alderman  Atkins  made  it  a  jest,  (Crest, 

That  of  all  kind  of  lucks  shitten  luck  is  the  best, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

R  3  There's 


262  The  Second  Part  of 

There's  another  Proverb  that  never  will  fail, 
That  the  good  [the]  Rump  will  do  when  they  prevail, 
Is  to  give  us  a  flap  with  a  Fox-tail, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

There  is  a  saying,  which  is  made  by  no  fools, 
I  never  can  hear  on't  but  my  heart  it  cools, 
That  the  Rump  will  spend  all  we  have  in  close- 

Which  no  body  &c.  (stools, 

There's  an  observation  wise  and  deep, 

Which,  without  an  Onion,  will  make  me  to  weep, 

That  flies  will  blow  Maggots  in  the  Rump  of  a 

Which  no  body,  &c.  (  sheep, 

And  some,  that  can  see  the  wood  from  the  trees, 
Say,  this  Sanctified  Rump  in  time  we  may  leese  : 
For  the  Cooks  do  challenge  the  rumps  for  their  Fees? 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

When  the  Rump  do  sit,  we'll  make  it  our  moan, 
That  the  Reason  be  'nacted,  if  there  be  not  one, 
Why  a  Fart  hath  a  tongue,  and  a  Fiest[le]  hath  none, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

And  whiPst  within  the  walls  they  lurk, 
To  satisfie  us,  will  be  a  good  work, 
Who  hath  most  Religion,  the  Rump  or  the  Turk, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

A 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  263 

A  Rump's  a  Fag  end,  like  the  baulk  of  a  furrow, 
And  is  to  the  whole  like  the  jail  to  the  burrough, 
Tis  the  bran  that  is  left  when  the  meal  is  run  tho- 
Which  no  body,  6°^.  ( rough, 

Consider  the  world,  the  heav'n  is  the  head  on't, 
The  earth  is  the  middle,  and  we  men  are  fed  on't, 
But  hell  is  the  rump,  and  no  more  can  be  said  on't, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

The  Red-coats  Triumph.  ( \ 

COme  Drawer,  and  fill  us  about  some  wine, 
Let's  merrily  tipple,  the  day  is  our  own  ; 
We'll  have  our  delights,  let  the  Country  go  pine, 
Let  the  King  and  the  Kingdom  groan  : 
The  Crown  is  our  own,  and  so  shall  continue, 
We'll  baffle  Monarchy  quite, 
We'll  drink  of  the  Kingdoms  Revenue, 
And  sacrifice  all  to  Delight ; 
Tis  power  that  brings  us  all  to  be  Kings, 
And  we'll  all  be  crown'd  by  our  might. 

A  fig  for  Divinity  Lectures,  and  Law, 

And  all  that  true  Loyalty  do  pretend  ; 

We  will  by  the  Sword  keep  Kingdoms  in  awe, 

And  our  Powers  shall  never  end  ; 

The  Church  and  the  State  we'll  turn  into  liquor, 

And  spend  a  whole  town  in  a  day  : 

R  4  We'll 


264  The  Second  Part  of 

We'll  melt  all  the  Bodkins  the  quicker 

Into  Sack,  and  drink  them  away ; 

We'll  keep  the  demeans  of  the  Bishops  and  Deans, 

And  over  the  Presbyter  sway. 

Now  nimble  Saint  Patrick  is  sunk  in  a  bog, 

And  his  Country-men  sadly  cry,  O  hone,  O  hone ; 

Saint  Andrew  and  his  Kirkmen  are  lost  in  a  fog, 

And  now  we  are  the  Saints  alone  ; 

Thus  on  our  Equals  and  Superiours  we  trample, 

And  Jockie  our  stirrop  shall  hold, 

The  Citie's  our  Mule  for  example, 

Whilst  we  will  in  plenty  be  rou'ld  ; 

Each  delicate  dish  shall  but  eccho  our  wish, 

And  our  drink  shall  be  cordial  Gold. 


The  Bulls  Feather. 

IT  chanced  not  long  ago,  as  I  was  walking, 
An  eccho  did  bring  me  where  two  were  a  talking : 
Twas  a  man  said  to  his  wife,  die  had  I  rather, 
Than  to  be  cornuted,  and  wear  the  Bulls  feather, 

Then  presently  she  reply'd,  Sweet,  art  thou  jealous  ? 
Thou  canst  not  play  Vulcan  before  I  play  Venus  : 
Thy  fancies  are  foolish,  such  follies  to  gather  : 
There's  many  an  honest  man  has  worn  the  Bulls  Feather. 

Though 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  265 

Though  it  be  invisible,  let  no  man  it  scorn, 
Though  it  be  a  new  Feather  made  of  an  old  horn, 
He  that  disdains  it  in  heart  or  mind  either 
May  be  the  more  subject  to  wear  the  Bulls  Feather. 

He  that  lives  discontent,  or  is  in  despair, 
And  feareth  false  measure,  because  his  wife's  fair : 
His  thoughts  are  inconstant,  much  like  winter  weather, 
Though  one  or  two  want  it,  he  shall  have  a  Feather. 

Bulls  Feathers  are  common  as  Ergo  in  Schools, 
And  only  contemned  by  those  that  are  fools  : 
Why  should  a  Bulls  Feather  cause  any  unrest, 
Since  neighbours  fare  alwaies  is  counted  the  best  ? 

Those  women  wh'  are  fairest,  are  likely  to  give  it ; 
And  husbands  that  have  them,  are  apt  to  believe  it. 
Some  men  though  their  wives  should  seem  for  to 

(tedder, 
They  would  play  the  kind  neighbour,  and  give  the 

(Bulls  feather. 

Why  should  we  repine  that  our  wives  are  so  kind, 
Since  we  that  are  husbands  are  of  the  same  mind  ? 
Shall  we  give  them  feathers,  and  think  to  go  free  ? 
Believe  it,  believe  it,  that  hardly  will  be. 

For  he  that  disdains  my  Bulls  feather  to  day, 
May  light  of  a  Lass  that  will  play  him  foul  play, 

There's 


266  The  Second  Part  of 

There's  ne'r  a  proud  gallant  that  treads  on  Cows 

(Leather, 
But  he  may  be  cornuted,  and  wear  the  Bulls  feather. 

Though  Beer  of  that  brewing,  I  never  did  drink, 
Yet  be  not  displeased  if  I  speak  what  I  think, 
Scarce  ten  in  a  hundred,  believe  it,  believe  it, 
But  either  they'll  have  it,  or  else  they  will  give  it. 

Then  let  me  advise  all  those  that  do  pine, 
For  fear  that  false  jealousie  shorten  their  time  : 
That  disease  will  torment  them  worse  than  any  feaver : 
Then  let  all  be  contented  to  wear  the  Bul[l]s  feather. 


Old  England  turned  New. 

YOu  talk  of  New  England,  I  truely  believe 
Old  England  is  grown  new,  &  doth  us  deceive, 
I'll  ask  you  a  question  or  two,  by  your  leave, 
And  is  not  Old  England  grown  new  ? 

Where  are  your  old  Souldiers  with  slashes  and  skars 
That  never  used  drinking  in  no  time  of  wars, 
Nor  shedding  of  bloud  in  mad  drunken  jars  ? 
And  is  not,  &c. 

New  Captains  are  come  that  never  did  fight, 
But  with  Pots  in  the  day,  and  Punks  in  the  Night, 
And  all  their  chief  care  is  to  keep  their  swords  bright, 
And  is  not,  &c. 

Where 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  267 

Where  are  your  old  Swords,  your  bills,  &  your  bows, 
Your  Bucklers  and  Targets  that  never  feared  blows  ? 
They  are  turned  to  Steelettoes,  with  other  fair  shews, 
And  is  not,  6°<r. 

Where  are  your  old  Courtiers,  that  used  to  ride 
With  forty  blew-coats  and  footmen  beside  ? 
They  are  turned  to  six  horses  [,]  a  coach  [,]  with  a 
And  is  not,  6°<r.  (guide, 

And  what  is  become  of  your  old  fashion  Cloaths, 
Your  long-sided  breeches,  and  your  trunk  hose  ? 
They  are  turned  to  new  fashions,  but  what,  the  Lord 
And  is  not,  &>c.  knows, 

Your  Gallant  &  his  Taylor  some  half  year  together, 
To  fit  a  new  suit  to  a  new  hat  and  feather, 
Of  Gold,  or  of  Silver,  silk,  cloath,  stuff,  or  leather, 
And  is  not,  &>c. 

We  have  new  fashion'd  beards,  and  new  fashion'd  locks, 
And  new  fashion'd  hats  for  your  new  pated  blocks, 
And  more  new  diseases  besides  the  French  pox, 
And  is  not,  6°<r. 

New  houses  are  built,  and  the  old  ones  pull'd  down, 
Untill  the  new  houses  sell  all  the  old  ground, 
And  then  the  house  stands  like  a  horse  in  the  pound. 
And  is  not,  6°<r. 

New 


268  The  Second  Part  of 

New  fashions  in  houses,  new  fashions  at  table, 
The  old  servants  discharged,  the  new  are  more  able, 
And  every  old  custome  is  but  an  old  fable, 
And  is  not,  &c. 

New  trickings,  new  goings,  new  measures,  new  paces, 
New  heads  for  your  men,  for  your  women  new  faces, 
And  twenty  new  tricks  to  mend  their  bad  cases, 
And  is  not,  &*c. 

New  tricks  in  the  Law,  new  tricks  in  the  holds,  [Rouls] 
New  bodies  they  have,  they  look  for  new  souls 
When  the  money  is  paid  for  the  building  of  Pauls, 
And  is  not,  6°<r. 

Then  talk  you  no  more  of  New-England, 
New-England  is  where  Old  England  did  stand,  (man'd ; 
New  furnish'd,  new  fashion'd,  new  woman'd  new 
And  is  not  Old  England  grown  New. 


A  Merry  Song. 

COme  Drawer,  turn  about  the  bowle 
Till  every  soul  has  made  a  scrowle 
As  long  as  his  arm  : 
Again,  my  boy,  be  filling  still 
Till  every  will  has  had  his  fill, 
Twill  keep  us  from  harm  : 

For 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  269 

For  he  that  is  copious,  and  doth  freight  with  Sack, 
Has  the  world  at  will,  and  doth  nothing  lack ; 
He's  richest  then  can  drink  off  a  Tun, 
The  bravest  men  that  are  under  the  Sun  ; 
Now  the  world  is  so  giddy,  that  it  scarce  knows 
To  smell  out  the  truth  now  it  has  lost  its  nose  : 
That  has  left  behind  a  Pitiful  case, 
It  smels,  you'l  find,  in  every  place. 

Then  since  he  is  happiest  that  drinks  the  most, 
Joy,  call  mine  Host,  that  honest  tost, 

He  shall  have  his  share  ; 
For  interest  we'll  give  him  drink, 
Now  wine  is  chink,  yet  let  him  think 

Our  dealing  is  faire  ; 
For  I'll  maintain  his  reckoning's  good. 
Though  we  had  drunk  on  tick  since  Noah's  flood, 
We'll  clear  it  all  in  Platoes  year, 
You'l  hear  we  shall  be  Catoes  there  : 
Then  he's  an  ass  will  spare  for  Chalk 
To  purchase  Sack  ;  what  e'r  you  talk, 
He's  not  great,  nor  rich,  nor  wise ; 
An  errant  Cheat  does  Wine  despise. 

A  Scottish  Covenant  we'll  take 
To  burn  at  stake,  if  not  forsake 

The  old  heresie 
Of  bowzing  to  a  petticoat, 
If  healths  of  note  we  could  not  vote 

Past  any  she,  They 


270  The  Second  Part  of 

They  are  but  blazes,  and  soon  are  gone, 
Fine  trifles  for  us  to  play  upon : 
When  we  have  nought,  or  little  to  do, 
We'll  have  'um  brought,  and  tickle  'um  too  : 
Mean  time  let  us  drink  a  Carouse  to  those 
Who  are  neither  the  French  nor  the  Spaniards  foes, 
For  all  our  treasure  is  there  in  their  Mines, 
There's  no  pleasure  here  but  in  their  wines. 

The  Contented. 

PRay  why  should  any  man  complain, 
Or  why  disturb  his  breast  or  brain 
At  this  new  alteration  ? 
Since  that  which  has  been  clone's  no  more 
Than  what  has  oft  been  done  before, 
And  that  which  will  be  done  again, 
As  long  as  there  are  ambitious  men. 
That  strive  for  domination. 

In  this  mad  age  there's  nothing  firm, 
All  things  have  period,  and  their  term, 
Their  rise  and  declination ; 
Those  gaudy  nothings  we  admire, 
Which  get  above  and  shine  like  fire, 
Are  empty  vapours  raised  from  ground, 
Their  mock-shine  past  th'  are  quickly  down, 
Must  fall  like  exhalation. 

But 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  271 

But  still  we  Commons  must  be  made 
A  gaull'd,  a  lame,  thin  hackney  Jade, 
And  all  by  turns  will  ride  us  ; 
This  side,  or  that  no  matter  which, 
For  both  do  ride  with  spur  and  switch, 
Till  we  are  tired,  and  then  at  last 
We  stumble,  and  our  riders  cast, 

'Cause  they'd  not  feed  nor  guide  us. 

Th'  insulting  Clergy  quite  mistook, 
Thinking  that  Kingdoms  past  by  book, 
Or  Crowns  were  got  by  prating ; 
'Tis  not  the  black  coat,  but  the  red, 
Has  power  to  make,  or  be  the  head ; 
Nor  is  it  oaths,  nor  words,  nor  tears, 
But  Musquets  and  full  Bandeleers 
Have  power  of  legislating. 

The  Lawyers  must  lay  by  their  books, 
And  study  Monck  much  more  than  Cooks; 
The  Sword  is  the  Learned  Pleader : 
Reports  and  Judgements  will  not  do't, 
But  'tis  Dragoons  and  Horse  and  Foot ; 
Words  are  but  wind,  but  Swords  come  home, 
A  stout  tongued  Lawyer  is  but  a  mome, 
Compared  to  a  stout  file-leader. 

Such  wit  and  valour  root  all  things, 
They  pull  down,  and  they  set  up  Kings, 

All 


272  The  Second  Part  of 

All  Law  is  in  their  bosoms  ; 
That  side  is  alwaies  right  that's  strong, 
And  that  that's  beaten  must  be  wrong : 
And  he  that  thinks  it  is  not  so, 
Unless  he's  sure  to  beat  'um  too, 
He's  but  a  fool  to  oppose  'm. 

Let  them  impose  taxes  and  rates, 
JTis  but  on  them  that  have  estates, 
Not  such  as  thou  and  I  are  : 
But  it  concerns  those  wor[l]dlings  which 
At  least  are  made,  or  else  grow  rich, 
Such  as  have  studied  all  their  daies 
The  saving  and  the  thriving  waies, 
To  be  the  mules  of  power. 

If  they'l  reform  the  Church  or  State, 

We'll  ne'r  be  troubled  much  thereat : 

Let  each  man  take  his  opinion, 

If  we  don't  like  the  Church,  you  know 

Taverns  are  free,  and  there  we'l  go ; 

And  every  one  will  be 

As  clearly  unconcern'd  as  we, 

They'l  ne'r  fight  for  domination. 


The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  273 


The  indifferent. 

WHat  an  Ass  is  he 
Waits  a  womans  leisure 
For  a  minutes  pleasure, 
And  perhaps  may  be 
Gull'd  at  last,  and  lose  her, 
What  an  ass  is  he  ? 

Shall  I  sigh  and  die 

'Cause  a  maid  denies  me, 

And  that  she  may  try  me, 

Suffer  patiently  ? 

O  no  !  Fate  shall  tye  me,        [?  no  Fate] 

To  such  cruelty. 

Love  is  all  my  life, 
For  it  keeps  me  doing  : 
Yet  my  love  and  wooing 
Is  not  for  a  Wife  : 
It  is  good  eschewing 
Warring,  care,  and  strife. 

What  need  I  to  care 
For  a  womans  favour  ? 
If  another  have  her, 

s  Why 


274  The  Second  Part  of 

Why  should  I  despair, 
When  for  gold  and  labour 
I  can  have  my  share. 

If  I  fancy  one, 
And  that  one  do  love  me, 
Yet  deny  to  prove  me, 
Farewel,  I  am  gone. 
She  can  never  move  me, 
Farewel,  I  am  gone. 

If  I  chance  to  see 

One  that's  brown,  I  love  her, 

Till  I  see  another, 

That  is  browner  than  she, 

For  I  am  a  lover 

Of  my  liberty. 

Every  day  I  change, 
And  at  once  love  many, 
Yet  not  tied  to  any, 
For  I  love  to  range, 
And  if  one  should  stay  me 
I  should  think  it  strange. 

What  though  she  be  old, 
So  that  she  have  riches, 
Youth  and  Form  bewitches, 

But 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  275 

But  'tis  store  of  Gold 
Cures  lascivious  itches, 
So  the  Criticks  hold. 


A  West-country  Mans  Voyage  to  New- 
England. 

MY  Masters  give  audience,  and  listen  to  me, 
And  streight  che  will  tell  you  where  che  have 
be: 
Che  have  been  in  New-England,  but  now  cham  come 

o'er, 
Itch  do  think  they  shal  catch  me  go  thither  no  more. 

Before  che  went  o'er  Lord  how  Yoke  did  tell 
How  vishes  did  grow,  and  how  birds  did  dwell 
All  one  mong,  t'other  [,]  in  the  wood  and  the  water, 
Che  thought  had  been  true,  but  che  find  no  such  matter. 

When  first  che  did  land  che  mazed  me  quite, 
And  'twas  of  all  daies  on  a  Satterday  night, 
Che  wondred  to  see  the  strong  building  were  there, 
'Twas  all  like  the  standing  at  Bartkolmew  Fair. 

Well,  that  night  che  slept  till  near  Prayer  time, 
Next  morning  che  wondred  to  hear  no  Bells  chime, 
And  when  che  had  ask'd  the  reason,  che  found 
'Twas  because  they  had  never  a  Bell  in  the  Town. 

s  2  At 


276  The  Second  Part  of 

At  last  being  warned  to  Church  to  repair,         (prayer, 
Where  che  did  think  certain  che  sho'd  hear  some 
But  the  Parson  there  no  such  matter  did  teach, 
They  scorn'd  to  pray,  they  were  all  able  to  preach. 

The  virst  thing  they  did,  a  Zalm  they  did  sing, 

I  pluckt  out  my  Zalm  book,  which  with  me  did  bring[,] 

Che  was  troubled  to  seek  him,  'cause  they  call  him  by 

name, 
But  they  had  got  a  new  Song  to  the  tune  of  the  same. 

When  Sermon  was  done  was  a  child  to  baptize 
About  sixteen  years  old,  as  volk  did  surmise, 
And  no  Godfather  nor  Godmother,  yet  'twas  quiet 

and  still, 
The  Priest  durst  not  cross  him  for  fear  of  his  ill  will. 

A  Sirra,  quoth  I,  and  to  dinner  che  went, 
And  gave  the  Lord  thanks  for  what  he  had  sent ; 
Next  day  was  a  wedding,  the  brideman  my  friend, 
He  kindly  invites  me,  so  thither  I  wend. 

But  this,  above  all,  to  me  wonder  did  bring, 
To  see  a  Magistrate  marry,  and  had  ne'r  a  ring ; 
Che  thought  they  would  call  me  the  woman  to  give  [, 
But  che  think  he  stole  her,  for  he  askt  no  man  leave. 

Now  this  was  new  Dorchester  as  they  told  me, 
A  Town  very  famous  in  all  that  Country ; 

They 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  277 

They  said  'twas  new  building,  I  grant  it  was  true, 
Yet  methinks  old  Dorchester  as  fine  as  the  new. 

Che  staid  there  among  them  till  che  was  weary  at 
heart, 

At  length  there  came  shipping,  che  got  leave  to  de- 
part : 

But  when  all  was  ended  che  was  coming  away, 

Che  had  threescore  shillings  for  swearing  to  pay. 

But  when  che  saw  that,  an  oath  more  che  swore, 
Che  would  stay  no  more  longer  to  swear  on  the  score ; 

e  bid  farewel  to  those  Fowlers  and  Fishers, 
So  God  bless  old  England  and  all  his  well  wishers. 


A  medicine  for  the  Quartan  Ague. 

THe  Aphorisms  of  Galen  I  count  but  as  straws, 
Profound  Pispot-peepers  be  you  all  mute, 
The  old  quartan  feaver  breaks  all  Physick-laws, 
To  help  to  cure  it  I  think  it  is  boot : 
Perusing  of  late  a  wormeaten  book, 
Brought  hither  from  Cinthia  down  in  Charles's  wain ; 
A  curious  medicine  out  thence  I  took, 
To  cure  the  quartan  Feaver  again. 

First  choose  a  Physitian  that  will  not  exceed 
Probatum  est,  speaking  no  more  than  he  knows, 

s  3  Who 


278  The  Second  Part  of 

Who  hath  more  skill  in  his  tongue  than  his  head ; 
Who  his  Potions  on  Patients  gratis  bestows, 
Three  Midsummer  moons  in  one,  let  him  pray 
To  Apollo,  and  the  Moon  being  full  in  the  wane, 
And  Scola  Salerna  twice  backward  to  say, 

And  it  will  cure  the  quartan  Feaver  again. 

His  Patients  water  then  let  him  cast 
In  a  pure  Urinal  of  old  August  Ice, 
And  diet  him  strictly,  no  gross  meats  to  eat, 
But  feed  him  with  fancies,  and  antick  device, 
To  walk  every  morning  some  eight  miles  or  more, 
Before  Phoebus  rises,  in  the  sunshine, 
And  before  he  be  up  to  be  seen  without  door, 
And  'twill  cure,  &c. 

Then  let  him  take  from  him  nine  drops  and  a  half 
Of  purified  bloud,  but  pierce  not  the  skin, 
Only  open  a  vein  in  the  heel  of  the  calf, 
Some  half  a  year  before  the  fit  do  begin  ; 
To  sweat  eleven  minutes  in  an  Oven  let  him  lye, 
Heat  with  a  North  wind,  and  a  shower  of  rain, 
And  sleep  every  night  with  one  half  of  an  eye, 
And  'twill  cure,  &>c. 

To  keep  his  body  alwaies  soluble  and  loose, 
That  he  shall  never  fear  to  be  subject  to  be  bound, 
Let  him  drink  Woodcocks  water  in  the  quill  of  a 
Goose, 

And 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  279 

And  alwaies  untruss  when  he  goes  to  ground  ; 
Thus  being  prepared,  let  the  Doctor  proceed 
With  all  other  ingredients  to  conquer  his  pain, 
And  profess  more  Art  than  ere  he  did  read, 
To  cure  the  quartan,  &c. 

Then  let  him  take  the  wind  of  the  wing  of  a  Crane, 
As  he  flies  over  Caucasus  hill, 
With  the  precious  stone  was  in  Gyges  his  Ring, 
Mix  them  with  three  turns  of  an  honest  windmil, 
Boyl  these  altogether  from  a  pint  to  a  quart 
In  a  Travellers  mouth  whose  tongue  cannot  feigne, 
And  having  new  din'd  give  him  this  next  his  heart, 
And  'twill  cure,  6°<r. 

Then  three  handfull  take  of  Popes  holy  shadow, 
When  Sol  is  new  entred  into  the  dog  :  daies, 
Three  skreeches  of  an  Owl  [,]  four  kaws  of  a  Jackdaw, 
WTith  the  brains  and  the  heads  of  three  ninepenny 
Fry  these  together  within  a  meal-sive,  (nailes, 

With  the  sweat  of  the  south-side  of  a  French  bean, 
And  this  to  his  Patient  Morn  &  Even  let  him  give, 
And  'twill  cure,  &c. 

Take  three  merry  thoughts  of  a  Bride  the  first  night 
She's  to  lye  with  her  Groom,  to  purge  melancholly, 
Three  gingles  of  the  silver  spur  of  a  field  Knight, 
Four  Puritan  faces,  not  counterfeit  holy, 

s  4  Take 


2  So  The  Second  Part  of 

Take  three  youthful  Capers  of  an  old  Oxe, 
And  thorough  a  joyned  stool  them  let  him  strain, 
And  then  drink  the  juice  through  a  tail  of  a  Fox, 
And  it  will  cure,  &c. 

Moreover,  because  I  strive  to  be  brief, 
Take  three  honest  thrums  of  a  weavers  shuttle, 
Three  snips  of  a  Taylors  sheers  that's  no  thief, 
A  cut-purses  thumb,  with  his  horn  and  his  whittle, 
The  mind  of  a  miller  that  ne'r  took  a  corn, 
More  than  his  due  in  grinding  of  grain, 
Burn  these  all  together  with  Jeeny  red  stalks, 
And  'twill  cure,  &c. 

And  lastly,  this  counsel  my  old  Author  gives, 
Take  the  bloud  of  a  Beetle  in  the  ayre  as  she  flies, 
Who,  like  a  Physitian,  of  excrement  lives, 
And  therewith  let  Empericks  anoynt  his  quick  eyes  : 
This  being  practised,  he  shall  see  soon 
All  natural  mysteries  perfect  and  plain, 
And  know  as  much  Physick  as  the  man  in  the  moon 
To  cure  the  quartan  feaver  again. 

A  Catch. 

NOw  I  am  married,  Sir  John  Til  not  curse, 
He  joyn's  us  together  for  better,  for  worse  ; 
But  if  I  were  single  I  tell  you  plain, 
I  would  be  advised  ere  I  marri'd  again. 

Of 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  281 

Of  Levelling. 

I  Have  reason  to  fly  thee,  &  not  to  sit  down  by  thee, 
For  I  hate  to  behold  one  so  sawcy  and  bold, 
That  derides  and  contemns  his  superiours ; 
Your  Madams  and  Lords, 
With  such  manerly  words, 
With  gestures  that  be 
Fit  for  our  degree 
Are  things  that  we  and  you 
Do  claim  as  our  due 
From  all  those  that  are  our  inferiours,  (know, 

For  from  the  beginning  there  were  Princes  we 
Tis  your  Levellers  do  hate  'cause  they  cannot  be 

(so. 

All  titles  of  honour  were  at  first  in  the  Donors, 
But  being  granted  away  by  that  persons  stay 
Where  he  wore  a  small  soul  or  a  bigger, 
There's  a  necessity 
That  there  should  be  a  degree, 
Though  Dick,  Tom,  and  Jack, 
Will  serve  you  and  your  pack, 
Where  'tis  due  we'll  afford 
A  Sir  John,  or  my  Lord, 
Honest  DicKs  name  is  enough  for  a  digger ; 

He  that  hath  a  strong  purse  may  all  things  be,  or 
Be  valiant,  and  wise,  and  religious  too.  (do, 

We 


,V,Vi'//,/  /',///,»/' 


\\  •    li  .i\  '    <   HI  ,    i,  .    idoie  ih.ii   m  111  ihii   li  till     i.  -i  . 

I  ll,  Ml    ll    I   I  ....  .1   .  .1     I    .,  .1     I  ll,  I  ,     .    .,  ,1,1.  I  Illll"   I.  .  1  ..    ".  >! 

Tllollpjl  he  I"     MI  ilhci    hum     I    IK.  i    \\iii. 
M.iKe  linn   Inj-.l..  I.  I    him   mle. 
He'll  l.r  plnyiiiK  llir  loul, 
\n.l  ii  in      K          i  li.  n   \\  .    II    ..|n,  .     . 

I  Inn    In)    Ini.    .     in.  I    I.  M     I,  , 

And  \ve  -.lull  j-(.nn 

l'.\    ih,    v.inilu-,  o!  In-,  1.  1.  mi, 

I    I    .     I  III       I.  '«  >l    .     <    '    l|  i     I  ll    ll      III    Mill    I  III    .     I  hi       <      ll  Y     , 

I  1  hoii.'Mi    l>.    hiil     MI  ,    1  1  .  111  .  onnnoii,  .in*l  .r.  hi 

II  <>i   I  he  tool,  01   Mi.    <   I.  »\\  n,    i  .  i  In    i  hainpion  nl   \\  ii 

I    ll.    II     \\  ll\      III    M      II.  .  |      \\  ,       h,       ,  .|       I     dill,    I,    Ml     d.    "I.    , 

And  null  MI  MI    i  |MI.    I.)  l>.    -M   M.  i    mil  in-Ill  i 
Than  In  .  \\  isn  <  >i   In  >n.    hi   hi  •  >i  l«  i  , 

'      Ml.     ,         I     ,.|   Illll.  III.   I  It   Ml   . 

Mi,  ii    I  I\,.MI  .  do     .    iiii'i, 
Tin  .  li.ilh    \  .il..in.  Ih.tl    \\  n 

hi     III.     \\  .  '  .1  1  I  I  I  ,     M.  'I      I    .     I  I      III 

Thai  onr  ••honld  have  all, 
I'oi   llu-n  uhal   \\.Mil.l  h,  i  ill 
Mr  lh.il   i  .  h.un  not  lo  one  not   |h.    olhi  .    '       (eh  it!<  I 
Though  honoi   \\  .  !•    .1  pi!   r  ii.'Mi    H   hr.  I.  M.  '\\    ii 
\  nil    i  .  in«  i  i   li  M  MI  i  hi.    M.  .\\    i  .  yon  i   \\  M  -     lands  01 

lluuiuiili  I  (rntt 

I'.ni   m  iln  .  \\  c    i'  i.  .    1,1  li\  ,    .|Mi.  i    in.  I  hee, 

I    <<    .Illlli,     '  •  I.    I        III.)      .llhlMll.      III.  I     II.  'I       .ll.    \\      \.'IM      \\ll 

I  '.\    \.MII   |  >i.i  I  m"  ,  hni     lie  ne  i    ami  llnnl  m 

1,1 


,?/, 


I.I    ill.     l'i.    .l.\  hi    |e\v, 
I  '  .  .1.  I    I  hni  11  1  1  .  .in.  I    Ne\\",, 
.  \n«l  I.  in!  ill.  H  di  «  (Mil  .. 
\\'il  li   .1   (  'ov<  it.  ml    lliil  '     vvnl    • 
Th.il    \\  In.  h   |»li  .IM  Mi   in.     h.    .1 
I-.   ..    SollKOI    I.    |.    M. 
And    ni\     o|»<   dl<    n.  i       I    II       In    \\     il     l>\     m\     <ll  ml    in       , 

\  in  I    ill.      n.  Mil.       I     lie1,  IK      I  .    .Ml    li  .....     .1    )•<  H  H  I    li    Mi  >\\  . 

And  ili.ii  in.  in  luili  in  •  \\i.i  Mi  i  L  ii  \\  •  >ii  i  fii  -in. 

(liinrr,  he  nirllow 


I       I  Live   Ihr   I.  MM    .!      \ 
The   l.un-,1    III.  il   rvn    \v,i        .  .  n 

\n.|    I.  .i.l    M..I      /  ,        •  .    IM   «    M    III    MM      U.i\  . 
'   ,1,.       I,  .1.1     IM    .    I,      I'.,    .Mill.      .    Hill    .    II 

I  |c|    lovely   l<  •«  »l    .,   In  i    t  «  -UK  \\   j-i  ;n  «  . 

I    will   .1.     <  ill..     ..I    1  M 
(  i(»d    (  '///•/,/  |>lll    IK  I    IM    lit  .   I  innl 

And  <>l  Ihc.  |<  IM  I.M.I    <  I.  ..  •• 

The    (,'/,<  .  :,!".     //,,',    /    ^^  .r.   ..    Mnoh 
<     •  >IM|.  il  'M    l<»    n.\     «  I-    .11     !      Mill  , 

And  I.  in   I.M  'd  ,Vr/i  //i  I"  Mill)    j  ...... 

And  yel  :,hc  doth  iml   I..MI.I 


///////  VV//i 


284  The  Second  Part  of 

Andromeda,  whom  Perseus  lov'd, 

Was  foul  were  she  in  sight, 
Her  lineaments  so  well  approv'd, 

In  praise  of  her  I'll  write. 

Her  hair  not  like  the  Golden  wyre, 

But  black  as  any  Crow, 
Her  brows  so  beetl'd  all  admire, 

Her  forehead  wondrous  low. 

Her  squinting,  staring,  gogling  eyes 

Poor  Children  do  affright, 
Her  nose  is  of  the  Sarasens  size ; 

O  she's  a  matchless  wight. 

Her  Oven-mouth  wide  open  stands, 

And  teeth  like  rotten  pease, 
Her  Swan-like  neck  my  heart  commands, 

And  breasts  all  bit  with  Fleas. 

Her  tawny  dugs,  like  two  great  hills, 

Hang  sow  like  to  her  waste, 
Her  body  huge,  like  two  wind-mills, 

And  yet  she's  wondrous  chaste. 

Her  shoulders  of  so  large  a  breadth, 
She'd  make  an  excellent  Porter, 

And  yet  her  belly  carries  most, 
If  any  man  could  sort  her. 

No 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  285 

No  Shoulder  of  Mutton  like  her  hand, 

For  broadness  thick  and  fat, 
With  a  pocky  Mange  upon  her  wrist : 

Oh  Jove!  how  love  I  that  ? 

Her  belly  Tun-like  to  behold, 

Her  bush  doth  all  excell, 
The  thing  that,  by  all  men  extoll'd, 

Is  wider  than  a  well. 

Her  brawny  buttocks,  plump  and  round, 

Much  like  a  Horse  of  War, 
With  speckled  thighs,  scab'd  and  scarce  sound ; 

Her  knees  like  Bakers  are. 

Her  legs  are  like  the  Elephants, 

The  calf  and  small  both  one, 
Her  anckles  they  together  meet, 

And  still  knock  bone  to  bone. 

Her  pretty  feet  not  'bove  fifteens, 

So  splay'd  as  never  was, 
An  excellent  Usher  for  a  man 

That  walks  the  dewy  grass. 

Thus  have  you  heard  my  Mistris  prais'd, 

And  yet  no  flattery  us'd, 
Pray  tell  me,  is  she  not  of  worth  ? 

Let  her  not  be  abus'd. 

If 


286  The  Second  Part  of 

If  any  to  her  have  a  mind, 
He  doth  me  wondrous  wrong, 

For  as  she's  beautious,  so  she's  chaste, 
And  thus  concludes  my  Song. 


Sensual  Delight. 

A  Re  you  grown  so  melancholly, 
That  you  think  of  nought  but  folly  ? 
Are  you  sad,  are  you  mad,  are  you  worse, 
Do  you  think  want  of  chinck  is  your  curse  ? 
Do  you  love  for  to  have  longer  life,  or  a  grave  ? 
Then  this  will  cure  you. 

First  I  would  have  a  bag  of  Gold, 
That  should  ten  thousand  pieces  hold, 
And  all  that  in  your  lap  would  I  poure 
For  to  spend  on  your  friend  or  your  whore,       (lice, 
For  to  play  away  at  dice,  or  to  shift  you  from  your 
And  this  will  cure  you. 

Next  I  would  have  a  soft  bed  made, 
Wherein  a  Virgin  should  be  laid 
That  will  play  any  way  you  devise, 
That  will  stick  like  an  itch  to  your  thighs, 
That  will  bill  like  a  dove,  lie  beneath  or  above, 
And  this  will  cure  you. 

Next 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  287 

Next  the  bowl  that  Jove  divine 
|  Drunk  Nectar  in,  filPd  up  with  wine 
And  all  that,  like  a  Greek,  you  should  quaff 
Till  your  cheeks  they  look  red,  and  you  laugh, 
Unto  Ceres,  and  to  Venus,  unto  Bacchus,  and  Selenus, 
And  this  will  cure  you. 

Next  seven  Eunuchs  should  appear 
Singing  in  Spheare-like  manner  here 
In  the  praise  of  the  wayes  of  delight, 
Venus  can  use  with  man  in  the  night, 
When  she  seemeth  to  adorn  Vulcans  head  with  a 
And  this  will  cure  you.  (horn. 

But  if  no  gold  nor  women  can, 
Nor  wine,  nor  Song  make  merry  man, 
Let  the  Batt  be  your  mate  and  the  Owle, 
Let  the  pain  in  the  brain  make  you  howl : 
Let  the  Pox  be  your  friend,  and  the  Plague  be  your 
And  this  will  cure  you.  (end. 


On  Captain  Hick  his  Oxford  yRasts. 

SUblimest  discretions,  have  clubd  for  expressions 
Which  are  muster'd  up  here  by  our  Captaine ; 
Some  staler,  some  milder,  some  tamer,  some  wilder, 
And  all  in  clean  Linnen  are  wrapt  in : 

Oxford 


288  The  Second  Part  of 

2 
Oxford  University  approves  her  self  witty, 

In  Jests  of  more  jovial  concerning, 
And  jocose  Apprehensions  prefer  their  Inventions, 

Before  all  the  rest  of  her  learning. 

3 
Here  is  choice,  here  is  store,  Eight  Hundred  or  more 

The  Cream,  and  the  Crown  of  all  Jesting ; 
All  brave  souls  be  Guests  at  this  Banquet  of  Jests  [:] 
Lucullus  had  never  such  feasting. 

4 
Such  wit  here's  exprest  in  every  choice  Jest 

They'll  make  Mellanchollicus  frolick, 
And  all  those  to  forget  to  groan,  and  to  fret, 
That  are  troubled  with  Stone  and  the  Chollick. 

5 
Will  Sumners  and  Scoggin  with  Archee  be  Jogging[,] 

Your  Quirks  and  your  Quibbles  are  folly : 
No  such  rare  Antidotes,  ere  took  flight  from  the 
'Gainst  the  poyson  of  black  Mellancholly.  (throats, 

6 

One  reading  a  score  did  with  laughter  give  o're 
Or  his  broad  sides  had  else  split  in  sunder ; 

At  next  Ordinary  he  with  repeating  of  three 
Made  the  wits  at  the  board  to  knock  under. 

7  (turnies, 

These  will  shorten  the  Journeys  of  Clarks  and  At- 
With  wits  most  refin'd  Recreations, 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  289 

And  when  they  are  far  remote  from  the  Barr 
We'll  cheer  up  their  hearts  in  Vacations. 

8  (trades) 

Now  all  you  brave  Blades  leave  your  Shops  &  your 
Your  lying  and  sollemn  protesting, 

And  if  ever  you'll  thrive  cease  to  drink,  swear,  & 

And  study  the  science  of  Jesting. 

9 

To  Gratifie  Jesters  sinks  Angells  to  Testers       [;] 

But  here  without  fear  of  Expences, 
You  may  pick,  you  may  chuse,  you  may  take  or  refuse 

As  suits  with  the  moods,  and  the  tences. 

10 
At  home  and  abroad  on  our  walks  or  the  Road 

These  Cordials  will  prove  Efficacious, 
Search  the  Books  of  all  ages,  &  ransack Jtheir  Pages 

You  will  find  nothing  half  so  Solacious. 

A   Catch.  (^ 

A  Pox  on  the  Jaylor  and  on  his  fat  Jole, 
There's  liberty  lies  in  the  bottom  of  th'  Bole, 
A  fig  for  what  ever  the  Rascal  can  do, 

Our  Dungeon  is  deep,  but  our  Cups  are  so  too  ; 
Then  Drink  we  round  in  despite  of  our  foes, 

And  make  our  hard  Irons  cry  clink  in  the  close  : 
Now  laugh  we  and  quaff  we,  untill  our  rich  Noses 
Grow  red,  and  contest  with  our  chapplets  of  Roses. 
T  Phillis 


290  The  Second  Part  of 

Phillis,  her  Lamentation. 

MY  Lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground, 
And  very  hard  is  my  Fare  ; 
But  that  which  troubles  me  most  is 
The  unkindness  of  my  Dear  : 
Yet  still  I  cry  O  turn  Love, 

And  I prethee  Love  turn  to  me; 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  I  long  for, 
And  alack  what  remedy  ! 

I'll  Crown  thee  with  Garlands  of  straw  then, 

And  I'll  marry  thee  with  a  Rush  Ring  \ 
My  frozen  hopes  shall  thaw  then, 
And  merrily  we  will  sing, 

O  turn  to  me  my  dear  Love, 

And  I  prethee  Love  turn  to  me  ; 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  alone  carist 
Procure  my  libertie. 

But  if  thou  wilt  harden  thy  Heart  still, 

And  be  deaf  to  my  pitiful  moan, 
Then  I  must  endure  the  smart  still, 
And  tumble  in  straw  alone  : 

Yet  still  I  cry  O  turn  Love, 

And  I  prethee  Love  turn  to  me  ; 
For  thou  art  the  man  that  alone  art 
The  cause  of  my  miserie. 

The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  291 

The  Song  of  the  Pedlers.    ^  j[fl 

FRom  the  fair  Lavinian  Shore  j 
I  your  Markets  come  to  store, 
Muse  not  though  so  far  I  dwell 

And  my  wares  come  here  to  sell : 
Such  is  the  secret  hunger  of  Gold, 
Then  come  to  my  Pack, 
While  I  cry,  what  d '  ye  lack, 
What  d '  ye  buy  ?  for  here  it  is  to  be  sold. 

I  have  Beauty,  Honour,  and  Grace, 

Fortune,  favour,  Time  and  Place  ; 
And  what  else  thou  would'st  request, 

Even  the  thing  thou  likest  best : 
First  let  me  have  but  a  touch  of  thy  Gold, 

Then  come  to  me  Lad 

Thou  shalt  have  what  thy  Dad 
Never  gave ;  for  here  it  is  to  be  sold. 

Madam,  come  see  what  ye  lack, 

Here's  Complexion  in  my  pack ; 
White  and  red  you  may  have  in  this  place 

To  hide  your  old  ill  wrinkled  face. 
First  let  me  have  a  touch  of  thy  Gold, 

Then  thou  shalt  seem 

Like  a  Wench  of  fifteen, 
Although  you  be  threescore  year  old. 

T  2  Ha, 


292  The  Second  Part  of 

Ha,  Ha,  Ha,  Ha,  Ha. 

CAlm  was  the  Evening  and  clear  was  the  skie, 
And  the  sweet  budding  flowers  did  spring, 
When  all  alone  went  Amintor  and  I 

To  hear  the  sweet  Nightingale  sing  : 
I  sate,  and  he  lay'd  him  down  by  me, 
And  scarcely  his  breath  he  could  draw, 
But  when  with  a  fear  he  began  to  come  near, 
He  was  dasht  with  a  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha,  &c. 

He  blusht  to  himself,  and  laid  still  a  while, 

Twas  his  modesty  curb'd  his  desire ; 
But  streight  I  convinc'd  all  his  fears  with  a  smile, 

And  added  new  flames  to  his  fire  : 
Ah  !  Silvia,  said  he,  you  are  cruel 
To  keep  your  poor  lover  in  awe  [:] 

Then  once  more  he  prest  with  his  hand  to  my  brest 
But  was  dasht  with  a  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha,  &c. 

I  knew  'twas  his  passion  that  caused  his  fear, 

And  therefore  I  Pitied  his  case ; 
I  whisper'd  him  softly,  there's  no  body  near, 

And  lay'd  my  Cheek  close  to  his  Face  : 
But  as  he  grew  bolder  and  bolder 
A  Shepherd  came  by  us  and  saw, 

And  straight  as  our  bliss,  began  with  [a]  kiss, 
He  laughs  out  with  a  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha  ha,  &c. 

In 


Merry  Dr oiler  ie,  Complete.  293 


In  praise  of  Sack. 

FEtch  me  Ben  Johnsons  scull,  and  fill't  with  Sack, 
Rich  as  the  same  he  drank,  when  the  whole  pack 
Of  jolly  sisters  pledg'd,  and  did  agree 
It  was  no  sin  to  be  as  drunk  as  he  : 
If  there  be  any  weakness  in  the  wine, 
There's  virtue  in  a  Cup  to  mak't  divine  \ 
This  muddy  drench  of  Ale  does  taste  too  much 
Of  earth,  the  Mault  retains  a  scurvy  touch 
Of  the  dull  hand  that  sows  it ;  and  I  fear 
There's  Heresie  in  Hops ;  give  Calvin  Beer, 
And  his  precise  Disciples,  such  as  think 
There's  Powder-treason  in  all  Spanish  drink ; 

!all  Sack  an  Idoll,  nor  will  kiss  the  Cup, 
For  fear  their  Conventicle  will  be  blown  up 
With  superstition  :  give  to  these  Brew-house  alms, 
Whose  best  mirth  is  Six  shilling  Beer,  and  Psalms  : 
Let  me  rejoyce  in  sprightly  Sack,  that  can 

!reate  a  brain  even  in  an  empty  pan. 
Canary  !  it's  thou  that  dost  inspire 
And  actuate  the  soul  with  heavenly  fire ; 
That  thou  sublim'st  the  Genius  [,]  making  wit, 
Scorn  earth,  and  such  as  love,  or  live  by  it ; 
Thou  mak'st  us  Lords  of  Regions  large  and  fair, 
Whil'st  our  conceits  build  Castles  in  the  air  : 

T  3  Since 


294  The  Second  Part  of 

Since  fire,  earth,  air,  thus  thy  inferiours  be, 

Henceforth  I'll  know  no  Element  but  thee  ; 

Thou  precious  Elixir  of  all  Grapes  ! 

Welcome[d]  be  thee  our  Muse  begins  her  scapes,   [by] 

Such  is  the  work  of  Sack ;  I  am  (me  thinks) 

In  the  Exchequer  now,  hark  now  it  chinks  : 

And  do  esteem  my  venerable  self 

As  brave  a  fellow,  as  if  all  the  pelf 

Were  sure  mine  own ;  and  I  have  thought  a  way 

Already  how  to  spend  it ;  I  would  pay 

No  debts,  but  fairly  empty  every  trunk, 

And  charge  the  Gold  for  Sack  to  keep  me  drunk;  [change] 

And  so  by  consequence  till  [,]  rich  Spains  Wine 

Being  in  my  crown,  the  Indies  too  were  mine[,] 

And  when  my  brains  are  once  afoot  (heaven  bless  us) 

I  think  my  self  a  better  man  than  Crams. 

And  now  I  do  conceit  my  self  a  Judge, 

And  coughing  laugh  to  see  my  Clients  trudge 

After  my  Lordships  Coach  unto  the  Hall 

For  Justice,  and  am  full  of  Law  withal, 

And  do  become  the  Bench  as  well  as  he 

That  fled  long  since  for  want  of  honestie  : 

But  I'll  be  Judge  no  longer  though  in  jest, 

For  fear  I  should  be  talk'd  with  like  the  rest 

When  I  am  sober ;  who  can  chuse  but  think 

Me  wise,  that  am  so  wary  in  my  drink  ! 

Oh  admirable  Sack  !  here's  dainty  sport, 

I  am  come  back  from  Westminster  to  Court  ; 

And 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  295 

And  am  grown  young  again  j  my  Ptisick  now 
I  Hath  left  me,  and  my  Judges  graver  brow 
Is  smooth'd,  and  I  turn'd  amorous  as  May, 
When  she  invites  young  lovers  for[th]  to  play 
Upcn  her  flowry  bosome   :  I  could  win 
A  Vestal  now,  or  tempt  a  Queen  to  sin. 
Oh  for  a  score  of  Queens  !  you'd  laugh  to  see 
HOF  they  would  strive  which  first  should  ravish  me, 
Three  Goddesses  were  nothing  :  Sack  has  tipt 
My  tongue  with  charms  like  those  which  Paris  sipt 
Frorr.  Venus,  when  she  taught  him  how  to  kiss 
Fair  Helen,  and  invite  a  fairer  bliss  : 
Mine  is  Canary-Rhetorick,  that  alone 
Would  turn  Diana  to  a  burning  stone  : 
Stone  with  amazement,  burning  with  loves  fire, 
Hard,  to  the  touch,  but  short  in  her  desire.          [?  soft] 
Inestimable  Sack  !  thou  mak'st  us  rich  : 
Wise,  amorous,  anything ;  I  have  an  itch 
To  t'other  cup,  and  that  perchance  will  make 
Me  valiant  too,  and  quarrel  for  thy  sake 
If  I  be  once  inflam'd,  against  thy  Nose 
That  could  preach  down  thy  worth  in  small-beer 
I  should  do  miracles  [as]  bad,  or  worse,         (Prose  [:] 
As  he  that  gave  the  King  an  hundred  Horse  : 
T'other  odd  Cup,  and  I  shall  be  prepar'd 
To  snatch  at  Stars,  and  pluck  down  a  reward 
With  mine  own  hands  from  Jove  upon  their  backs 
That  are,  or  Charles  his  enemies,  or  Sacks  : 

T  4  Let 


296  The  Second  Part  of 

Let  it  be  full,  if  I  do  chance  to  spill 
Ov'r  my  standish  by  the  way[,]  I  will[,] 
Dipping  in  this  diviner  Ink,  my  pen, 
Write  my  self  sober,  and  fall  to  Jt  agen. 


A  Catch. 

NOw  that  the  Spring  hath  filFd  our  Veins 
With  kind  and  active  fire. 
And  made  green  liveries  for  the  Plains 
And  every  Grove  a  Quire 

Sing  we  this  Song  with  mirth  and  merry  glee, 

And  Bacchtis  crown  the  Bowl, 
And  here's  to  thee,  and  thou  to  me 

And  every  thirsty  soul. 

Shear  sheep  that  have  them,  cry  we  still, 

But  see  that  none  escape, 
To  take  off  this  Sherry,  that  makes  us  so  merry 

And  plump  as  the  lusty  Grape. 


The  Huntsman. 

OF  all  the  sports  the  world  doth  yield 
Give  me  a  pack  of  hounds  in  field, 
Whose  eccho  sounds  shrill  through  the  sky, 
Makes  Jove  admire  our  harmony, 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  297 

And  wish  that  he  a  mortal  were, 
To  see  such  pleasures  we  have  here. 

Some  do  delight  in  Masks  and  plays, 
And  in  Diands  Holy  daies. 
Let  Venus  act  her  chiefest  skill, 
If  I  dislike  111  please  my  will ; 
And  choose  such  as  will  last, 
And  not  to  surfeit  when  I  taste. 

Then  I  will  tell  you  of  a  scent, 
Where  many  a  horse  was  almost  spent, 
In  Chadwel  Close  a  Hare  we  found, 
That  led  us  all  a  smoaking  round  ; 
O'r  hedge  and  ditch  away  she  goes, 

Admiring  her  approaching  foes. 

• 

But  when  she  felt  her  strength  to  waste, 
She  parleys  with  the  Hounds  in  haste. 
The  Hare.     You  gentle  dogs  forbear  to  kill 
A  harmless  beast  that  ne'r  did  ill : 
And  if  your  Masters  sport  do  crave, 
I'll  lead  a  scent  as  they  would  have. 

The  Hounds.     Away,  away,  thou  art  alone, 
Make  haste  we  say,  and  get  thee  gone  ; 
We'll  give  thee  leave  for  half  a  mile, 
To  see  if  thou  canst  us  beguile  : 

But 


298  The  Second  Part  of 

But  then  expect  a  thundering  cry, 
Made  by  us  and  our  company. 

The  Hare.     Then  since  you  set  my  life  so  light, 

I'll  make  Black  lovely  turn  to  White, 

And  York-shire  Gray,  that  runs  at  all, 

I'll  make  him  wish  him  in  his  stall ; 

And  Sorrel,  he  that  seems  to  fly, 

I'll  make  him  sickly  ere  I  die. 

Let  Burham-Bay  do  what  he  can, 
And  Barton  Gray,  Which  now  and  then 
Doth  strive  to  winter  up  my  way ; 
I'll  neither  make  him  sit  nor  play, 
And  constant  Robin,  though  he  lie 
At  his  advantage,  what  care  I  ? 

But  here  Kit  Bolton  did  me  wrong, 
As  I  was  running  all  along ; 
For  with  one  pat  he  made  me  so, 
That  I  went  reeling  too  and  fro  : 
Then,  if  I  die[,]  your  masters  tell, 
That  fool  did  ring  my  passing-Bell. 

But  if  your  masters  pardon  me, 

I'll  read  them  all  to  Througabby  •  [?  lead] 

Where  constant  Robin  keeps  a  room 

To  welcome  all  the  Guests  that  come, 

To 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  299 

To  laugh,  and  quaff  in  Wine,  and  Beer, 
A  full  Carouze  to  their  Career. 

The  Hounds.     Away,  away,  since  'tis  our  nature 
To  kill  thee,  and  no  other  Creature, 
Our  Masters  they  do  want  a  bit, 
And  thou  wilt  well  become  the  spit : 
They  eat  the  flesh,  we  pick  the  bone, 

Make  haste,  we  say,  and  get  thee  gone. 

I 

The  Hare.     Your  Masters  may  abate  their  cheer, 
My  meat  is  dry  ;  and  Butter  dear ; 
And  if  with  me  they'd  make  a  friend, 
They  had  better  give  a  Puddings  end  : 
Besides,  once  dead,  then  sport  they'l  lack, 
And  I  must  hang  on  th'  Huntsman's  back. 

The  Hounds.     Alas  poor  Hare  [!]  we  pity  thee, 
If  with  our  nature  'twould  agree ; 
But  all  thy  doubling  shifts  we  fear 
Will  not  prevent  thy  death  so  near, 
Then  make  thy  Will,  for  it  may  be  that 
May  save  thee ;  else,  we  know  not  what. 

The  Hare's    Then  I  do  give  my  body  free, 
Will.         Unto  your  Masters  courtesie ; 
And  if  they'l  spare  till  sport  be  scant, 
I'll  be  their  game,  when  they  do  want : 

But 


3OO  The  Second  Part  of 

But  when  I'm  dead  each  greedy  hound 
Will  trail  my  entrails  on  the  ground. 

The  Hounds.     Were  ever  Dogs  so  basely  crost  ? 

Our  Masters  call  us  off  so  fast, 

That  we  the  scent  have  almost  lost ; 

And  they  themselves  must  lose  the  roast, 

Wherefore,  kind  Hare  we  pardon  you  : 

The  Hare.     Thanks  gentle  Hounds,  and  so  Adieu. 


A  Catch. 

OThe  wily  wily  Fox,  with  his  many  wily  mocks, 
We'll  Earth  him  if  you'l  but  follow, 
And  now  that  we  have  done't,  to  conclude  our  mer- 
Let  us  roundly  whoop  and  hollow  :  (ry  hunt, 

Prethee  drink,  prethee  drink,  prethee,  prethee  drink, 
That  the  Hunters  may  all  follow. 


A  Song. 

SHe  lay  all  naked  in  her  bed, 
And  I  my  self  lay  by  ; 
No  Vail  nor  Curtain  there  was  spread, 

No  covering  but  I  : 
Her  head  upon  on$  shoulder  seeks 
To  hang  in  careless  wise, 

All 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  301 

All  full  of  blushes  were  her  cheeks, 
And  wishes  were  her  eyes. 

Her  bloud  lay  flushing  in  her  face, 

As  [7t]on  a  message  came, 
To  say  that  in  some  other  place 

It  meant  some  other  Game ; 
Her  neather  Lip  moyst,  plump,  and  fair, 

Millions  of  kisses  crown'd, 
Which  ripe  and  uncropt  dangled  there, 

And  weighed  the  branches  down. 

Her  breasts,  that  lay  swell'd  full  and  high, 

Bred  pleasant  pangs  in  me, 
And  all  the  world  I  did  defie 

For  that  felicity ; 
Her  thighs  and  belly,  soft  and  plump, 

To  me  were  only  shewn  : 
To  have  seen  such  meat,  and  not  to  have  eat, 

Would  have  angred  any  one. 

Her  knees  lay  up,  but  stoutly  bent, 

And  all  was  hollow  under, 
As  if  on  easie  terms  they  meant 

To  fall  unforc'd  asunder  : 
Just  so  the  Cyprian  Queen  did  lye, 

Expecting  in  her  bower ; 
When  too  long  stay,  had  kept  the  boy 

Beyond  his  promis'd  hour. 

Dull 


302  The  Second  Part  of 

Dull  Clown,  quoth  she,  why  dost  delay 

Such  proffered  bliss  to  take  ? 
Canst  thou  find  no  other  way 

Similitudes  to  make  ? 
Mad  with  delight  I  thundred  in, 

And  threw  mine  arms  about  her, 
But  a  pox  upon  \  'twas  but  a  dream, 

And  so  I  lay  without  her. 

Of  a  Good  Wife  and  a  Bad. 

SOme  Wives  are  Good  and  some  are  Bad, 
(Reply.)     Methinks  you  touch  them  now, 
And  some  will  make  their  Husbands  mad, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too  : 

And  my  Wife  and  thy  Wife, 
And  my  Wife  so  will  do. 

Some  Women  love  to  breed  discord, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  have  the  latter  word, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  wife  too  : 

And  my  Wife,  &c. 

Some  Women  will  Spin,  and  some  will  Sow, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  to  the  Tavern  go, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too  : 

And  my  Wife,  &c. 

Some 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  303 

Some  Women  will  say  they'r  sick  at  Heart, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  let  a  rousing  Fart, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too  : 

And  my  Wife,  &c. 

Some  Women  will  ban  and  some  will  curse, 
McthinkS)  &c. 

And  some  will  pick  their  Husbands  Purse, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too : 
And  my,  &c. 

Some  Women  will  Brawle,  and  some  will  Scold, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  make  their  Husbands  Cuckold, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too  : 
And  my,  &c. 

Some  Women  will  drink,  and  some  will  not, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  take  the  t'other  Pot, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too : 
And  my  Wife,  &c. 

Some  Women  are  sick,  and  some  are  sound, 

Methinks,  &c. 

And  some  will  take  it  on  the  Ground, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too  : 
And  my,  &c. 

Thus 


304  The  Second  Part  of 

Thus  of  my  song  I'll  make  an  end, 

Methinks,  &c. 

Hoping  all  women  will  amend, 
(Cho.)  And  so  will  my  Wife  too : 

And  my  Wife,  &c. 


A  Catch. 

CA11  George  again  boy,  call  George  again, 
And  for  the  love  of  Bacchus  call  George  again. 
George  is  a  good  boy,  and  draws  us  good  wine, 
Or  fills  us  more  Clarret  our  wits  to  refine ; 
George  is  a  brave  Lad,  and  an  honest  man, 
If  you  will  him  know,  he  dwells  at  the  Swan. 

• 

A  Song. 

POx  take  you  Mistris  I'll  be  gone, 
I  have  friends  to  wait  upon ; 
Think  you  I'll  my  self  confine, 
To  your  humours  (  Lady  mine  :) 
No,  your  louring  seems  to  say  : 
'Tis  a  rainy  drinking  day, 
To  the  Tavern  I'll  away. 

There  have  I  a  Mistris  got, 
Cloystered  in  a  Pottle  pot : 

Brisk 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  305 

Brisk  and  sprightly  as  thine  eye, 
When  thy  richest  glances  fly, 
Plump  AND  bounding,  lively,  fair, 
Bucksome,  soft,  and  debonair  : 
And  she's  call'd  Sack,  my  DEAR. 

Sack's  my  better  Mistris  far, 
Sack's  my  only  beauty-star ; 
Whose  rich  beams,  and  glorious  raies, 
Twinkle  in  each  red  rose  and  face  : 
Should  I  all  her  vertues  shew, 
Thou  thy  self  would  love-sick  prove, 
AND  she'd  prove  thy  Mistris  TOO. 

She  with  no  dart-scorn  will  blast  me  ; 

But  upon  thy  bed  can  cast  me  ;  P  my] 

Yet  ne'er  blush  herself  too  red, 

Nor  fear  of  loss  of  Maiden-head  :  [a  loss] 

And  she  can  (the  truth  to  say) 

Spirits  into  me  convey, 

MORE  than  thou  canst  take  AWAY. 

Getting  kisses  here's  no  toyl, 

Here's  no  Handkerchief  to  spoyl ; 

Yet  I  better  Nectar  sip, 

Than  dwells  upon  thy  lip  :  [can  dwell] 

And  though  mute  and  still  she  be, 

Quicker  wit  she  brings  to  me, 

Than  e'er  I  could  find  in  THEE. 

v  If 


306  The  Second  Part  of 

If  I  go,  ne'er  think  to  see 

Any  more  a  fool  of  me ; 

I'll  no  liberty  up  give, 

Nor  a  Maudlin-like  love  live, 

No,  there's  nought  shall  win  me  to  't, 

'Tis  not  all  thy  smiles  can  do 't, 

Nor  thy  Maiden-head  to  BOOT. 

Yet  if  thou'lt  but  take  the  pain 

TO  be  good  but  once  again  ; 

If  one  smile  then  call  me  back, 

THOU  shalt  be  that  Lady  Sack  : 

Faith  but  try,  and  thou  shalt  see 

What  a  loving  Soul  I'll  be, 

WHEN  I  am  drunk  with  nought  but  thee. 


The  Answer. 

I    Pray  thee,  Drunkard,  get  thee  gone, 
Thy  Mistris  Sack  doth  smell  too  strong  : 
Think  you  I  intend  to  wed, 
A  sloven  to  be-piss  my  bed  ? 
No,  your  staining  me's  to  say, 
You  have  been  drinking  all  this  day. 
Go,  be  gone,  away,  away. 

Where  you  have  your  Mistris  Sack, 
Which  hath  already  spoy'ld  your  back, 

And 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  307 

And  methinks  should  be  too  hot, 
To  be  cloystered  in  a  pot. 
Though  you  say  she  is  so  fair, 
So  lovely,  and  so  debonair, 
She  is  but  of  a  yellow  hair. 

Sack's  a  whore  "which  burns  like  fire, 

Sack  consumes  and  is  a  dryer  ; 

And  her  waies  do  only  tend 

To  bring  men  unto  their  end  : 

Should  I  all  her  vices  tell, 

Her  rovings  and  her  swearings  fell, 

Thou  wouldst  dam  her  into  Hell. 

Sack  which  no  dart-scorns  will  blast  thee, 
But  upon  thy  bed  still  cast  thee  : 
And  by  that  impudence  doth  shew, 
That  no  vertue  she  doth  know : 
For  she  will,  the  truth  to  say, 
Thy  body  in  an  hour  decay, 
More  than  I  can  in  a  day. 

Though  for  kisses  there's  no  toyl, 

Yet  your  body  she  doth  spoil : 

Sipping  Nectar  whilst  you  sit, 

She  doth  quite  besot  your  wit : 

Though  she  is  mute,  she'll  make  you  loud : 

Brawl  and  fight  in  every  croud, 

When  your  reason  she  doth  cloud. 

v  2  Nor 


308  The  Second  part  of 

Nor  do  you  ever  look  to  see 
Any  more  a  smile  from  me, 
I'll  [  yield  ]  no  liberty,  nor  sign, 
Which  I  truly  may  call  mine. 
No,  no  sleight  shall  win  me  to't, 
Tis  not  all  thy  parts  can  do't,* 
Thy  Person,  nor  thy  Land  to  boot. 

Yet  if  thou  wilt  take  the  pain, 

To  be  sober  once  again, 

And  but  make  much  of  thy  back, 

I  will  be  instead  of  Sack. 

Faith  but  try,  and  thou  shalt  see, 

What  a  loving  soul  I'll  be  : 

When  thou  art  drunk  with  nought  but  me. 


A  Catch. 

SHe  that  will  eat  her  breakfast  in  her  bed, 
And  spend  the  morn  in  dressing  of  her  head, 
And  sit  at  dinner  like  a  Maiden-bride, 
And  nothing  do  all  day,  but  talk  of  pride  ; 
Jove  of  his  mercy  may  do  much  to  save  her, 
But  what  a  case  is  he  in  that  shall  have  her. 

St.  George 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  309 


St.  George  for  England. 

WHy  should  we  boast  of  Arthur  and  his 
Knights, 

Knowing  so  many  men  have  endured  hot  fights ; 
Besides  King  Arthur,  and  Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake, 
Sir  Tristram  de  Lionel,  that  fought  for  Ladies  sake, 
Read  old  Histories,  and  then  you  shall  see, 
That  St.  George,  St.  George  did  make  the  Dragon  flee; 
St.  George  for  England,  St.  Dennis  for  France, 
Sing  Hony  soit  qui  maly  pense. 

Mark  how  father  Abraham,  when  first  he  rescued  Lot, 
Only  by  his  household  what  conquest  there  they  got ; 
David  elected  a  Prophet  and  a  King, 
He  slew  great  Goliah  with  a  stone  and  a  sling ; 
These  were  no  Knights  of  the  Table  round, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  did  confound  ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

Joshua  and  Gideon  did  lead  their  men  to  fight, 
They  conquered  the  Amorites,  and  put  them  to  flight; 
Hercules  labour's  upon  the  Plains  of  Bass, 
And  Sampson  slew  a  thousand  with  the  jaw  bone  of 
Besides  a  goodly  Temple  there  he  did  spoyl,    (an  ass, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  he  did  foyl  \ 
St.  George,  &c. 

V3  The 


3  io  The  Second  Part  of 

The  wars  of  the  Monarchs  they  were  too  long  to  tell[,] 
And  next  of  all  the  Romans,  for  they  did  far  excell, 
When  Hannibal  and  Scipio  so  many  fields  did  fight, 
Orlando  Furioso  was  a  worthy  Knight ; 
Remus  and  Romuhis,  that  first  Rome  did  build, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  did  make  the  dragon  yield, 
St.  George,  &c. 

Many  have  fought  with  proud  Tamberlain, 
And  Cutlax  the  Dane,  great  wars  did  maintain, 
Rowland,  and  Bryan,  and  good  Sr.  Oliveer  ; 
In  the  forrest  of  Arden  there  slew  both  Bull  &  Bear, 
Beside  the  noble  Hollander,  Sir  Goward  with  his  bill, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  dragons  bloud  did  spill ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

Bevis  conquered  Askupart,  and  after  slew  the  bore, 
And  then  he  crost  beyond  the  seas  to  combate 

with  a  Moor, 

Sir  Isinbrass  &  Egleman  they  were  Knights  bold[,] 
And  good  Sir  John  Mandevil  of  travels  much  have  told 
These  were  all  English  Knights  that  pagans  did  convert. 
But  St.  George,  &c.  pluckt  out  the  Dragons  heart. 
St.  George,  &c 

The  noble  Alphonso,  that  was  the  Spanish  King, 
The  order  of  the  red  scarfs  and  bedrowl  he  did  bring, 
He  had  a  troop  of  mighty  Knights,  when  first  he  did, 
begin, 

That 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  3 1 1 

That  sought  adventures  far  and  nigh  what  conquest 

they  might  win, 

The  ranks  of  the  Pagans  full  oft  he  put  to  flight, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  did  with  the  Dragon  fight ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

The  noble  Earle  of  Warwick,  that  called  was  Sir  Guy; 
The  Infidels  and  Pagans  much  he  did  defie, 
He  slew  the  Gyant  Brandemoor,  &  after  was  the  death 
Of  the  most  gastly  dun  Cow,  the  divel  of  Dunsmore 

heath, 

Besides  other  noble  Deeds  he  did  beyond  the  seas, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  did  appease ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

Valentine  and  Orson  of  King  Pipins  blood, 
Alfred  and  Henry  they  were  Knights  good; 
The  four  Sons  of  Amon  that  fought  for  Charlemain, 
Sir  Hugo  de  Bourdeaux,  and  Godfrey  de  Bullaign, 
These  were  all  french  Knights  that  lived  in  that  age, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  did  asswage  ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

When  at  the  first  K.  Richard  was  King  of  this  Land, 

He  gorged  a  Lyon  with  his  naked  hand ; 

The  noble  Duke  of  Austria  nothing  he  did  fear, 

He  killed  his  Son  with  a  box  on  the  ear, 

Besides  other  noble  deeds  done  in  the  holy-Land, 

But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  did  withstand ; 

St.  George,  &c. 

v  4  When 


312  The  Second  Part  of 

When  as  the  third  King  Edward  had  conquered  all 

France, 

He  quartered  their  Arms  his  honour  to  advance, 
He  ransack'd  their  Cities,  threw  their  Castles  down, 
And  garnished  his  head  with  a  double  double  Crown, 
He  thumped  the  French,  &  homeward  then  he  came, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  he  did  tame ; 
St.  George,  &c. 

St.  David  of  Wales  did  the  Welchmen  much  advance, 
St.  James  for  Spain,  that  never  yet  broke  Lance, 
St.  Patrick  for  Ireland,  that  was  St.  Georges  Boy, 
Seven  years  he  kept  his  horse,  &  then  stole  him  away, 
For  which  filthy  act  a  slave  he  doth  remain, 
But  St.  George,  St.  George  the  Dragon  he  hath  slain ; 

St.  George  for  England,  St.  Denis  for  France, 

Sing  Hony  soit  qui  mal  y  pense. 


Arthur  of  Bradly. 

SAw  you  not  Pierce  the  Piper, 
His  Cheeks  as  big  as  a  Myter, 
Piping  among  the  Swains 

That's  down  in  yonder  Plains  : 
Where  Tib  and  Tom  doth  tread  it, 

And  Youths  the  hornpipe  lead  it, 
With  every  one  his  carriage 

To  go  to  yonder  Marriage, 

For 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  313 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly, 

Oh  brave  Arthur  viBradly,  O  fine  Arthur  oiBradly, 
O  brave  Arthur  of  Bradly,  oh. 

Arthur  hath  gotten  a  Lass, 

A  bonnier  never  was  ; 
The  chiefest  youths  in  the  Parish 

Come  dancing  in  a  Morris, 
With  Country  Gambols  flouncing, 

Country  Wenches  trouncing, 
Dancing  with  mickle  pride, 

Every  man  his  wench  by  his  side, 
For  the  honour  of  Arthur,  &c. 

But  when  that  Arthur  was  married, 

And  his  Bride  home  had  carried ; 
The  Youngsters  they  did  wait 

To  help  to  carry  up  meat : 
Francis  carried  the  Furmety, 

Michael  carried  the  Mince-pye, 
Bartholomew  the  Beef  and  the  Mustard, 

And  Christopher  carried  the  Custard, 
Thus  every  one  went  in  this  Ray, 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly,  Oh  fine,  &c. 

But  when  that  dinner  was  ended, 

The  Maidens  they  were  befriended  ; 
For  out  stept  Dick  the  Draper, 

And  he  bid  pipe  up  scraper ; 

Be 


314  The  Second  Part  of 

Better  to  be  dancing  a  little, 

Than  into  the  Town  to  tipple ; 
He  bid  him  play  him  a  Horn-pipe, 

That  goes  fine  of  the  Bagpipe  : 
Then  forward  Piper,  and  play 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly,  Oh  fine,  6°<r. 

Then  Richard  he  did  lead  it, 

And  Margery  she  did  tread  it ; 
Francis  followed  them, 

And  after  courteous  Jane : 
And  every  one  after  another, 

As  if  they  had  been  sister  and  brother, 
That  'twas  a  great  sight  to  see 

How  well  they  did  agree, 
And  then  they  all  did  say, 

Hay  for  Arthur  of  Bradly,  oh  fine,  &c. 

When  all  the  Swains  did  see 

This  mirth  and  merry  glee, 
There  was  never  a  man  did  flinch, 

But  every  man  kist  his  Wench  : 
But  Giles  was  greedy  of  gain, 

And  he  would  needs  kiss  twain  ; 
His  Lover,  seeing  that, 

Did  rap  him  on  the  pate, 
That  he  had  not  one  word  to  say 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly,  oh  fine,  &c. 

The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  3 1 5 

The  Piper  look'd  aside, 

And  there  he  spide  the  Bride ; 
He  thought  it  was  a  hard  chance 

That  none  would  lead  her  a  dance  : 
For  never  a  man  durst  touch  her, 

But  only  Will,  the  Butcher ; 
He  took  her  by  the  hand 

And  danc'd  whilst  he  could  stand ; 
The  Bride  was  fine  and  gay, 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly,  Oh  fine,  &c. 

Then  out  stept  Will,  the  Weaver, 

And  he  swore  he'd  not  leave  her ; 
He  hopt  it  all  of  a  Leg, 

For  the  honour  of  his  Peg, 
But  Kester  in  Cambrick  Ruffe, 

He  took  that  in  snuff : 
For  he  against  that  day 

Had  made  himself  fine  and  gay  ; 
His  Ruff  was  whipt  over  with  blew, 

He  cryed  a  new  dance,  a  new ; 
Then  forward  Piper  and  play, 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradley,  Oh  fine,  &c. 

Then  'gan  the  Sun  decline, 

And  every  one  thought  it  time 
To  go  unto  his  home, 

And  leave  the  Bridegroom  alone. 

To 


3 1 6  The  Second  Part  of 

To 't  [,]  to  't,  quoth  lusty  Ned, 

We'll  see  them  both  in  bed  : 
For  I  will  jeopard  a  joynt 

But  I  will  get  his  codpiece  point : 
Then  strike  up  Piper  and  play, 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradly,  oh  fine,  &c. 

And  thus  the  day  was  spent, 

And  no  man  homeward  went, 
That  there  was  such  crouding  and  thrusting, 

That  some  were  in  danger  of  bursting, 
To  see  them  go  to  bed  : 

For  all  the  skill  they  had, 
He  was  got  to  his  Bride, 

And  laid  him  close  by  her  side, 
They  got  his  Points  and  Garters, 

And  cut  them  in  peeces  like  quarters  ; 
And  then  they  bid  the  Piper  play, 

For  the  honour  of  Arthur  of  Bradley,  oh  fine,  &c. 

Then  Will,  and  his  sweet  heart 

Did  call  for  Loath  to  depart, 
And  then  they  did  foot  it  and  toss  it, 

Till  the  Cook  had  brought  up  the  posset, 
The  Bride-pye  was  brought  forth, 

A  thing  of  mickle  worth, 
And  so  all  at  the  bed-side 

Took  leave  of  Arthur  and  his  Bride, 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  317 

And  so  they  went  all  away 

From  the  wedding  of  Arthur  of  Bradley,  oh,  &>c. 


I 


On  the  Printing  of  'the  Oxford  Jests.    \     ^ 

' 

Tell  thee  Kit,  where  I  have  been, 


Where  I  the  rarest  Jests  have  zeen, 

O  Jests  without  compare, 
Zuch  Jests  again  cannot  be  shewn, 
In  Oxford  no  nor  Cambridge  town  ; 

They  be  so  very  rare, 

2 

I  yesterday  did  go  to  buy 

A  book,  (thou  know'st)  for  thee  and  I, 

Of  zomething  that  was  pretty, 
And  when  poor  Robins  Jests  I  zaw, 
Methoughts  they  were  old,  and  lean,  and  raw, 

Not  like  his  Almanachs  witty. 

3 

I  then  did  ask  for  the  Oxford  Jests, 

Which  Kit  thou  knowest  came  from  the  Brests, 

Of  our  University  ; 
The  man  to  me  did  then  confess, 
They  were  not  yet  come  out  oj  th  press, 

Quoth  I  [,]  the  more's  the  pitty. 

At 


3 1 8  The  Second  Part  of 

4 

At  last  he  shew'd  the  very  coppy, 
Of  that  i'th  press,  I'm  a  very  puppy 

Kit,  if  e'er  the  like  was  zeen  j 
Before  I  half  a  score  had  read, 
With  laughing  (if  it  may  be  zed) 

I'd  like  to  have  broke  my  spleen. 

5 

I  then  did  point  to  read  'urn  o'er, 
Zuch  Jests  I  never  heard  before, 

Fore  George  tis  true  our  Kit; 
And  e'er  that  I  had  read  'um  half 
I  found  I  was  so  great  with  laugh, 

I  thought  my  zides  would  split. 

6 

Then  hey  for  Oxford 'now  I  zay     [!] 
Evaith  I  long  to  see  the  day 

That  they  shall  printed  be  ; 
Then  thee  and  I  will  each  buy  one, 
For  our  two  sweet  hearts  Nell  and  Jone, 

For  Mirth  and  Mellodie, 


A  Catch. 

THere  was  three  Cooks  in  Colebrook, 
And  they  fell  out  with  our  Cook, 
And  all  was  for  a  pudding  he  took, 
And  from  the  Cook  of  Colebrook. 


There 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  319 

There  was  swash  Cook,  and  flash  Cook, 
And  thy  Nose  in  my  Narse  Cook, 
And  all  was  for  a  pudding  he  took, 
And  from  the  Cook  of  Colebrook. 
Then  they  fell  all  upon  our  Cook, 
And  numbled  him  so,  that  he  did  look 
As  black  as  the  pudding  which  he  took, 
And  from  the  Cook  of  Colebrook. 


o 


The  Blacksmith. 
F  all  the  Sciences  beneath  the  Sun. 


Which  have  been  since  the  world  begun, 
The  Smith  by  his  art  great  praise  hath  won, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 

The  fairest  Goddess  in  the  skies 
To  marry  with  him  did  devise, 
That  was  a  cunning  Smith  and  wise, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Then  Mars  came  down  for  Venus  sake, 
The  Smith  he  did  his  armour  make, 
In  love  together  he  did  them  take, 
Which  no  body,  dr*c. 

The  first  that  ever  Musick  made 
Was  Tubal  of  the  Blacksmiths  Trade, 

By 


320  The  Second  Part  of 

By  hammering  strokes  as  it  was  said, 
Which  no  body,  6°^. 

He  did  invent  continually 
The  Iron  work  for  the  Country, 
A  Smith  for  mirth  and  husbandry, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

What  Occupation  can  you  name, 
But  first  the  Smith  must  help  the  same, 
With  working  tools  their  work  to  frame  ? 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

What  horse  can  post  to  carry  news, 
But  first  the  Smith  sets  on  his  shooes, 
With  Spur  and  Stirrop  for  mens  use  ? 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

What  Ship  upon  the  Sea  can  sail, 
If  Iron  work  in  her  do  fail, 
Though  Anchor  hold  'twill  not  prevail  ? 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

What  can  you  build  with  lime  or  stone 
If  Iron-work  therein  be  none  ? 
Smiths  make  for  houses  many  a  one, 
Which  no  body,  6°r. 

How  can  you  go  to  Plough  or  Cart, 
Except  the  Smith  do  play  his  Part, 
With  Coulter  and  Shaire  made  well  by  Art, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 


The 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  321 

The  Axletree  Pin,  the  plowing  Chain, 
The  Bill,  the  Axe,  the  Wedges  twain, 
The  Pitchfork,  and  the  Dung-fork  plain, 
Which  no  body,  drc. 

The  Butchers  Axe,  the  Shooe-makers  Awl, 
The  cutting  knives  on  every  stall, 
That  lies  to  cut  and  carve  withall, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

The  Coopers  Adds,  the  Brewers  Slings, 
The  Carpenters  Tools  for  many  things, 
The  plyers  for  the  Goldsmiths  Rings, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Your  Tongs,  your  Spits,  Trevits,  and  Racks, 
And  many  other  things  that  lacks, 
And  for  your  houses  pretty  Knacks, 
Which  no  body,  &°<r. 

Weights  and  Skales  to  buy  and  sell, 
A  thousand  things  I  need  not  tell, 
The  Smith  hath  matched  all  things  so  well, 
Which  no  body,  6^. 

I  could  rehearse  a  thousand  things, 
Of  iron  Bars,  Bolts,  and  Pins, 
Latches,  Catches,  Staples,  Rings, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

x  He 


322  The  Second  Part  of 

He  makes  all  several  kinds  of  Locks, 
For  horses,  for  doors,  for  Chest,  for  Box, 
For  houses,  and  for  Churches  Clocks, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Your  fire  Irons,  small  and  great, 
Your  pothooks,  and  forks  so  fine  and  neat, 
Your  Jack  that  turns  your  spits  of  meat, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

Your  Paviours  Pickax,  great  and  small, 
Your  Pattens  for  women,  low  and  tall ; 
Your  Shovel  and  Spade  to  work  withall, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Your  branding  Iron  to  brand  your  Kine, 
Your  Clappers  for  Bells  to  ring  and  chime, 
Your  stamps  for  Gold  and  Silver  fine, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

The  horses  Bits,  that  finely  gingle, 
The  Barbers  Tools,  that  is  so  nimble, 
The  Taylors  sheer,  his  Bodkin  and  thimble, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

And  for  all  weapons  for  the  fight 
The  Smith  I  am  sure  makes  such  a  sight, 
So  long,  so  strong,  so  fair,  so  bright, 
Which  no  body,  6*v. 

Bills 


Merry  Dr oiler ie,  Complete.  323 

Bills,  Pikes,  Dags  and  Guns, 
Halberts,  Spears,  and  many  things, 
Through  the  hammer  of  the  Smith  all  come, 
Which  no  body,  &c. 

To  love  the  Smith  all  Trades  are  bound, 
Which  make  him  thus  to  be  renown'd, 
For  which  his  hammers  they  are  crown'd, 
Which  no  body,  6°<r. 

Of  Smiths  now  living  at  this  hour, 
There  was  a  Smith  within  the  Tower 
Which  might  be  counted  for  a  flower, 
Which  no  body,  6°£ 

Thus  of  my  Song  I  make  an  end, 
The  Smith  is  every  bodies  friend, 
He  seeks  his  Country  to  defend, 
Which  no  body  can  deny. 


A  North  Country  Song. 

Hen  Ise  came  first  to  London  Town, 
Ise  wor  a  Novice,  as  other  men  are ; 
se  thought  the  King  had  liv'd  at  the  Crown, 
And  the  way  tol  heaven  had  been  through  the  star. 
x  2  Ise 


w 


3  24  The  Second  Part  of 

Ise  set  up  my  horse,  and  Ise  went  to  Pauls, 
Good  Lord,  quoth  I,  what  a  Kirk  been  here  ? 

Then  Ise  did  swear  by  all  Kerson  souls, 
It  wor  a  mile  long,  or  very  near, 

It  wor  as  high  as  any  Hill, 

A  Hill,  quo  I,  nay  as  a  Mountain, 
Then  went  Ise  up  with  a  very  good  will, 

But  glad  wor  I  to  come  down  again. 

For  as  Ise  went  up  my  head  roe  round. 

Then  be  it  known  to  all  Kerson  people, 
A  man  is  no  little  way  fro  the  ground, 

When  he's  o'  th'  top  of  all  Pauls  steeple. 

Ise  lay  down  my  hot,  and  Ise  went  to  pray, 

But  wor  not  this  a  pitious  case, 
Afore  I  had  done  it  wor  stolen  away,  (place  ? 

Who'd  have  thought  theeves  had  been  in  that 

Now  for  my  Hot  Ise  made  great  moan. 

A  stander  by  unto  me  said, 
Thou  didst  not  observe  the  Scripture  aright, 

For  thou  mun  a  watcht,  as  well  as  pray'd. 

From  thence  Ise  went,  and  I  saw  my  Lord  Mayor, 
Good  lack  [!]  what  a  sight  was  there  to  see, 

My  Lord  and  his  horse  were  both  of  a  hair, 
I  could  not  tell  which  the  Mare  should  be. 

From 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  325 

From  thence  to  Westminster  I  went, 
Where  many  a  brave  Lawyer  I  did  see, 

Some  of  them  had  a  bad  intent, 

For  there  my  purse  was  stoln  from  me. 

To  see  the  Tombs  was  my  desire, 

I  went  with  many  brave  fellows  store        [,] 

I  gave  them  a  penny  that  was  there  hire, 
And  he's  but  a  fool  that  will  give  any  more. 

Then  through  the  rooms  the  fellow  me  led, 

Where  all  the  sights  were  to  be  seen, 
I  And  snuffling  told  me  through  the  nose, 

What  formerly  the  name  of  those  had  been. 

i  Here  lies  [,]  quoth  he,  Henry  the  Third, 

Thou  li'st  like  a  knave,  he  saies  never  a  word  ; 
And  here  lies  Richard  the  Second  interred, 
And  here  stands  good  King  Edwards  Sword. 

Under  this  Chair  lyes  Jacobs  stone, 
The  very  same  stone  lies  under  the  Chair, 

A  very  good  jest,  had  Jacob  but  one, 

How  got  he  so  many  Sons  without  a  pair  ? 

I  staid  not  there,  but  down  with  the  tide 
I  made  great  haste,  and  I  went  my  way ; 

For  I  was  to  see  the  Lions  beside, 
And  the  Paris-garden  all  in  a  day. 

x  3  When 


326  The  Second  Part  of 

When  Ise  came  there,  I  was  in  a  rage, 
I  rayl'd  on  him  that  kept  the  Bears, 

Instead  of  a  Stake  was  suffered  a  Stage 
And  in  Hunkes  his  house  a  crue  of  Players. 

Then  through  the  Brigg  to  the  Tower  Ise  went, 

With  much  ado  Ise  entred  in, 
And  after  a  penny  that  I  had  spent, 

One  with  a  loud  voice  did  thus  begin. 

This  Lyon's  the  Kings,  and  that  is  the  Queens, 
And  this  the  Princes  that  stands  here  by, 

With  that  I  went  neer  to  look  in  the  Den         [:] 
Cods  body,  quoth  he,  why  come  you  so  nigh  ? 

Ise  made  great  haste  unto  my  Inne, 
I  supt,  and  I  went  to  bed  betimes, 

Ise  slept,  and  I  dream'd  what  I  had  seen, 
And  wak'd  again  by  Cheapside  Chimes. 

The  Merry  Goodfellow. 

WHy  should  we  not  laugh  and  be  jolly, 
Since  all  the  World  is  mad  ? 
And  lulFd  in  a  dull  melancholly  ; 
He  that  wallows  in  store 
Is  still  gaping  for  more, 
And  that  makes  him  as  poor, 
As  the  wretch  that  ne'er  anything  had. 


How 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  327 

How  mad  is  that  damn'd  money-monger  ? 
That  to  purchase  to  him  and  his  heirs 
Grows  shriviled  with  thirst  and  hunger ; 

While  we  that  are  bonny, 

Buy  Sack  with  ready-money, 
And  ne'er  trouble  the  Scriveners,  nor  Lawyers. 

Those  guts  that  by  scraping  and  toyling, 

Do  swell  their  Revenues  so  fast, 

Get  nothing  by  all  their  turmoiling, 
But  are  marks  of  each  taxe, 
While  they  load  their  own  backs 
With  the  heavier  packs, 

And  lye  down  gall'd  and  weary  at  last. 

While  we  that  do  traffick  in  tipple, 
Can  baffle  the  Gown  and  the  Sword, 
Whose  jaws  are  so  hungry  and  gripple, 

We  ne'er  trouble  our  heads 

With  Indentures  or  Deeds, 
And  our  wills  are  compos'd  in  a  word. 

Our  money  shall  never  indite  us, 
Nor  drag  us  to  Goldsmiths  Hall, 
No  Pyrats  nor  wracks  can  affright  us ; 

We,  that  have  no  Estates, 

Fear  no  plunder  nor  rates, 

We  can  sleep  with  open  gates, 

He  that  lies  on  the  ground  cannot  fall. 

x4  We 


328  The  Second  Part  of 

We  laugh  at  those  fools  whose  endeavours 
Do  but  fit  them  for  Prisons  and  Fines, 
When  we  that  spend  all  are  the  savers ; 
For  if  the  thieves  do  break  in, 
They  go  out  empty  agin, 
Nay,  the  Plunderers  lose  their  designs. 

Then  let  us  not  think  on  to  morrow, 
But  tipple  and  laugh  while  we  may, 
To  wash  from  our  hearts  all  sorrow ; 
Those  Cormorants  which 
Are  troubled  with  an  itch, 
To  be  mighty  and  rich, 
Do  but  toyl  for  the  wealth  they  do  borrow. 

The  Mayor  in  our  Town  with  his  Ruff  on, 

What  a  pox  is  he  better  than  me  ? 

He  must  vail  to  the  man  with  his  Buff  on  ; 
Though  he  Custard  may  eat 
And  such  lubbardly  meat, 

Yet  our  Sack  makes  us  merrier  than  he. 


The  Rebels  Reign. 


N 


Ow  we  are  met,  in  a  knot,  let's  take  t'other  pot, 

And  chirp  o'r  a  Cup  of  Nectar ; 
Let's  think  on  a  charm  to  keep  us  from  harm, 
From  the  Fiend,  and  the  new  Protector. 

Heretofore 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  329 

Heretofore  at  a  brunt  a  Cross  would  have  done  \ 
But  now  they  have  taken  courses,  (left 

With  their  Laws  and  their  theft,  there's  not  a  cross 
In  the  Church,  nor  the  Farmers  purses. 

They're  with  you  to  bring  for  a  stuffing  at  a  King, 

For  now  you  must  make  no  dainty, 
To  have  your  nose  ground  on  a  stone  turned  round 

By  Nol,  and  one  and  twenty. 

But  our  Rights  are  kept  for  us  in  Oliver's  store-house 
'Twere  as  good  they  were  set  in  the  stocks ; 

They  are  just  in  the  pickle  in  the  thirtieth  Article, 
Like  Jack  in  a  Juglers  box. 

We  are  loth  to  look  for  the  Saints  in  a  book, 

But  would  not  a  man  be  vext, 
To  see  them  so  rough  with  the  blades  and  their  buff, 

But  not  a  word  on't  in  the  Text. 

We  have  been  twelve  years  together  by  the  ears 

To  prepare  for  a  spiritual  raign : 
Men  were  never  so  spic'd  with  the  Scepter  of  Christ 

In  the  hands  of  a  Saint  in  grain. 

Twas  brew'd  in  their  Hives  by  Citizens  wives, 

Who  ventured  their  husbands  far, 
With  Robin  the  fool  there  was  ne'r  such  a  tool 

To  lead  in  the  womens  war. 

He 


33O  The  Second  Part  of 

He  was  ill  at  Command,  but  worse  at  a  stand, 

So  they  sought  out  another  more  able  : 
Then  Fair,  undertakes,  but  Nol  keeps  the  stakes, 

And  sends  away  Fox  with  a  bauble. 

(on'd, 
Wil)  Conqueror  the  second,  without  his  host  reck- 

And  so  did  Brown  billet  his  Mate: 
They  made  a  great  noise  mongst  women  and  boys, 

But  now  they  are  both  out  of  date. 

Cowardly  W had  but  a  foule  Fortune, 

And  wanted  a  knife  to  scrape  it, 
When  his  Oriphice  ran  there  was  no  mortal  man, 

But  omnibus  horis  sapit 

BradshaW)  the  Knave,  sent  the  King  to  his  grave, 

And  on  the  bloud  Royal  did  trample, 
For  which  the  next  Lent  he  was  made  President, 

And  ere  long  may  be  made  an  example. 

Dorislaus  did  steer  to  Hans  mine  beer, 

And  Askew  to  Don  at  Madril,  (patcht, 

Ere  a  man  could  have  scratcht  they  were  both  dis- 

Yet  there  they  lye  Leger  still. 

Martin  and  St.  Johns,  and  more  with  a  vengeance, 

Had  each  a  finger  i'th'  pye : 
Some  for  the  money,  and  some  for  the  Conny, 

And  some  for  they  knew  not  why. 

The 


Tli 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete ',  331 


The  Parliament  sate  as  snug  as  a  Cat, 
And  were  playing  for  mine  and  yours  : 

Sweep-stakes  was  their  Game  till  Oliver  came, 
And  turn'd  it  to  knave  out  of  doors. 

Then  a  new  one  was  cast,  and  made  up  in  hast, 

But  alas  [!]  they  could  do  no  more 
Than  empty  our  purse,  and  empty  us  worse 

Than  e'r  we  were  marred  before. 

But  in  a  good  hour  they  gave  up  their  power 

To  one  that  was  wiser  than  they ; 
By  common  consent  'twas  the  first  Parliament 

That  ever  wa,sfefo  de  se. 

After  all  this  Jeer  we  are  never  the  near, 
There  sits  one  at  the  helm  commanding ; 

One  that  doth  us  nick  with  a  trick  for  our  trick, 
And  the  stone  in  our  foot  notwithstanding. 

He'l  not  relax  one  groat  of  the  Tax 
Though  it  come  to  more  than  he  need, 

He  may  keep  it  in  store  till  his  need  be  more, 
'Tis  an  Article  of  our  new  Creed. 

So  well  he  hath  wrought,  that  now  he  hath  brought 
The  Realm  to  the  manner  he  meant  it ; 

The  Fishes,  and  the  fowl,  and  the  divel  and  all 
And  the  monthly  pay  his  high  rent. 

All 


332  The  Second  Part  of 

All  this  we  must  bear,  but  'twould  make  a  man  swear 
When  they  call  us  a  reformed  Nation  : 

It  can  never  sink  into  my  head  for  to  think 
That  this  is  a  Reformation. 

3Tis  the  man  in  the  Moon,  or  the  divel  as  soon, 

Our  Laws  are  asleep  upon  shelves  : 
Our  Charter  and  Freedom  we  may  bid  God  speed  'urn, 

'Tis  well  we  can  beg  for  our  selves. 

Since  Nol  hath  bereft  us,  and  nothing  hath  left  us, 
Not  a  Horse  or  an  Oxe  to  plough  land ; 

Let  Oliver  pass,  come  fill  up  my  glass, 
And  here's  a  good  health  to  Rowland. 


A  Catch. 

HAve  you  observ'd  the  wench  in  the  street, 
She's  scarce  any  hose  or  shooes  to  her  feet ; 
And  when  she  cries,  she  sings, 
I  have  hot  Codlings,  hot  Codlings. 

Or  have  you  ever  seen  or  heard, 
The  mortal  with  his  Lyon  tauny  beard  ! 

He  lives  as  merrily  as  heart  can  wish, 
And  still  he  cries,  Buy  a  brush,  buy  a  brush. 

Since 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  333 

Since  these  are  merry,  why  should  we  take  care  ? 

Musitians,  like  Camelions,  must  live  by  the  Aire ; 
And  let's  be  blithe  and  bonny,  &  no  good  meeting 

balk,  (Chalk. 

What  though  we  have  no  money,  we  shall  find 


A  new  Medley. 

The  English.        T     Et  the  Trumpet  sound, 

I  ^  And  the  Rocks  rebound, 
Our  English  Native's  coming ; 

Let  the  Nations  swarm, 

And  the  Princes  storm, 
We  value  not  their  drumming. 
'Tis  not  France,  that  looks  so  smug, 
Old  fashions  still  renewing, 
It  is  not  the  Spanish  shrug, 
Scottish  Cap,  or  Irish  rug ; 
Nor  the  Dutch-mans  double  jug 
Can  help  what  is  ensuing ; 
Pray,  my  Masters,  look  about, 
For  something  is  a  Brewing. 

He  that  is  a  Favorite  consulting  with  Fortune, 
If  he  grow  not  wiser,  then  he's  quite  undon ; 
In  a  rising  creature  we  daily  see  certainly, 
He  is  a  retreater  that  fails  to  go  on : 

He 


334  The  Second  Part  of 

He  that  in  a  builders  trade 
Stops  e're  the  roof  be  made, 
By  the  Air  may  be  betray'd 

And  overthrown  : 
He  that  hath  a  race  begun, 
And  lets  the  Goal  be  won ; 
He  had  better  never  run. 

But  let 't  alone. 

Then  plot  rightly, 

March  sightly, 
Shew  your  glittering  Arms  brightly  : 

Charge  hightly  ; 

Fight  sprightly  j 
Fortune  gives  renown. 

A  right  riser 

Will  prize  her, 
She  makes  all  the  world  wiser ; 

Still  try  her, 

Well  gain  by  her, 
A  Coffin  or  a  Crown. 

If  the  Dutchman  or  the  Spaniard 

Come  but  to  oppose  us, 

We  will  thrust  them  up  at  the  main-yard 
If  they  do  but  nose  us  : 

Hans,  Hans,  think  upon  thy  sins, 

And  then  submit  to  Spain  thy  Master ; 

For  though  now  you  look  like  friends, 


Yet 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  335 

Yet  he  will  never  trust  you  after ; 
Drink,  drink,  give  the  Dutchman  drink, 
And  let  the  tap  and  kan  run  faster ; 
For  faith  at  the  last  I  think 
A  Brewer  will  become  your  Master. 

Let  not  poor  Teg  and  Shone 

Vender  from  der  houses, 

Lest  dey  be  quite  undone 

In  der  very  Trouses  : 

And  all  der  Orphans  bestow'd  under  hatches, 

And  made  in  London  free  der  to  cry  matches ; 

St.  Patrick  wid  his  Harp  do  tun'd  wid  tru  string 

Is  not  fit  to  unty  St.  Hewsoris  shooe-strings. 

Methinks  I  hear 

The  welch  draw  near, 
And  from  each  lock  a  louse  trops ; 

Ap  Shon,  ap  LLoyd, 

Will  spend  her  ploot, 
For  to  defend  her  mouse-traps  : 
Mounted  on  her  Kifflebagh 
With  cott  store  of  Koradagh, 
The  Prittish  war  begins. 

With  a  hook  her  was  overcome  her, 
Pluck  her  to  her,  thrust  her  from  her, 
By  cot  her  was  break  her  shins. 

Let  Taffie  fret, 

And  welch-hook  whet 

And 


336  The  Second  Part  of 

And  troop  up  petigrees, 

We  only  tout 

Tey  will  stink  us  out, 
Wit  Leeks  and  toasted  Sheeze. 

But  Jockie  now  and  Jinny  comes, 

Our  Brethren  must  approve  on't ; 

For  pret  a  Cot  dey  bert  der  drums 

Only  to  break  de  Couvenant. 

Dey  bore  Saint  Andrew's  Cross, 

Till  our  army  quite  did  rout  dem, 

But  when  we  put  dem  to  de  loss, 

De  deal  a  Cross  about  dem  : 

The  King  and  Couvenant  they  crave, 

Their  cause  must  needs  be  further'd  [,] 

Although  so  many  Kings  they  have 

Most  barbarously,  basely  murthered. 

The  French.        The  Frenchman  he  will  give  consent, 
Though  he  tickle  in  our  veins  ; 

That  willingly 

We  may  agree, 
To  a  marriage  with  grapes  and  grains : 

He  conquers  us  with  kindness, 

And  doth  so  far  entrench, 
That  fair,  and  wise,  and  young,  and  rich, 

Are  finified  by  the  French  : 
He  prettifies  us  with  Feathers  and  Fans, 

With  Petticoats,  Doublets,  and  Hose, 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  337 


And  faith  they  shall 

Be  welcome  all 
If  they  forbear  the  nose. 

For  love  or  for  fear, 

Let  Nations  forbear ; 
If  Fortune  exhibit  a  Crown, 

A  Coward  he 

Must  surely  be, 
That  will  not  put  it  on. 

A  Catch. 

SHew  a  Room,  shew  a  Room,  shew  a  Room, 
Here's  a  Knot  of  Good  fellows  are  come, 
trhat  mean  for  to  be  merry 
-Vith  Clarret  and  with  Sherry  ; 

,ach  man  to  mirth  himself  disposes, 

.nd  for  the  Reckoning  tell  Noses  ; 

rive  the  Red-Nose  some  White, 

.nd  the  Pale-Nose  some  Clarret, 

iut  the  Nose  that  looks  Blew, 

rive  him  a  Cup  of  Sack,  'twill  mend  his  hew. 


w 


The  Contented. 

Hy  should  a  man  care,  or  be  in  despair, 
Should  Fortune  prove  never  so  unkind  ? 
Y  [Or] 


3  3  8  The  Second  Part  of 

Or  why  should  I  be  sad  for  that  I  never  had, 
Or  foolishly  trouble  my  mind  ? 
For  I  do  much  hate  to  pine  at  my  Fate, 
There's  none  but  a  fool  will  do  so  : 
I'll  laugh  and  be  fat,  for  care  kills  a  Cat, 
And  I  care  not  howe're  the  world  go. 

Though  I  am  poor,  and  others  have  store, 
Why  should  I  repine  at  their  bliss  ? 
For  I  am  content  with  what  God  hath  sent, 
And  I  think  I  do  not  amiss  : 
Let  others  have  wealth,  for  I  have  health, 
And  money  to  pay  what  I  owe, 
I'll  laugh,  and  be  merry,  and  sing  hey  down,  down 
For  I  care  not,  6°<r.  (derry. 

Some  men  do  suppose,  even  by  their  gay  Cloaths, 
For  to  be  in  great  request ; 
Though  mine  be  but  bare,  I  am  not  o'  thj  show, 
And  I  think  myself  honestly  drest; 
Though  every  man  cannot  say  so, 
I  like  that  I  wear,  though  it  cost  not  so  dear, 
For  I  care  not,  &c. 

Your  Epicure  eats  of  the  best  sort  of  meat 
And  wine  of  the  best  he  doth  drink, 
And  laies  him  to  rest,  and  thinks  himself  blest, 
On  heaven  he  never  doth  think  ; 

Thougl 


Merry  Drollery,  Complete.  339 

Though  my  fare  be  but  course,  I  am  not  the  worse, 
My  health  is  the  better  I  know ; 
Though  plain  be  my  food,  my  stomach  is  good, 
And  I  care  not,  6°<r. 

Your  flattering  Curs,  that  fawn  upon  Furs, 
And  hang  at  Noble  mens  ears, 
If  once  they  do  fall,  away  they  run  all, 
And  this  is  their  flattering  fears  : 
Dissembling  I  scorn,  for  I  am  free  born, 
My  happiness  lies  not  below  ; 
Though  my  words  want  Art,  I  speak  from  my  heart, 
I  care  not,  6°<r. 

Some  men  do  strive,  and  mightily  thrive, 
And  some  for  Offices  wait, 
Much  money  they  spend,  and  to  little  end, 
And  repent  then  when  it's  too  late ; 
Low  shrubs  are  secure,  when  Cedars  endure 
preat  storms  and  tempests  below, 
Let  others  look  high,  for  so  will  not  I, 
And  I  care  not  howe're  the  world  go. 

How  to  live  happy. 

HE  that  a  happy  life  would  lead 
In  these  times  of  distraction, 
*t  him  listen  to  me,  and  I  will  read 
Lecture  without  faction ; 

Y  2  Let 


340  The  Second  Part  of 

Let  him  want  three  things,  whence  misery  springs, 
They  all  begin  with  a  letter, 

Let  him  bound  his  desires  to  what  nature  requires, 
And  with  reason  his  humour  fetter. 

Let  not  his  wealth  prodigious  grow, 

For  that  breeds  cares  and  dangers  ; 

Makes  him  envied  above  and  hated  below, 

A  constant  slave  to  strangers ; 

They  are  happiest  of  all  whose  estates  are  but  small, 

Though  but  enough  to  maintain  them, 

They  may  do,  they  may  say,  having  nothing  to  pay, 

It  will  not  quit  cost  to  arraign  them. 

Nor  would  I  have  him  clogg'd  with  a  wife, 

For  household  cares  incumber, 

Nor  to  one  place  to  confine  his  life, 

Cause  he  can't  remove  his  Lumber ; 

They  are  happiest  far  who  unmarried  are, 

And  forrage,  and  all  in  common, 

From  all  storms  they  can  flye,  or  if  they  should  die, 

They  mine  no  child  nor  woman. 

Let  not  his  brains  or'flow  with  wit, 

That  capers  o'r  discretion, 

It's  costly  to  keep,  and  hard  to  get, 

And  dangerous  in  the  possession  • 

They  are  happiest  men  that  can  scarce  tell  ten, 

And 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  341 

And  beat  not  their  brains  about  reason,  (serve, 

They  may  speak  what  will  serve  themselves  to  pre- 
And  their  words  are  not  taken  for  treason. 

But  of  all  fools  there's  none  to  the  wit, 

For  he  takes  pains  to  shew  it, 

His  pride  and  his  drink  bring  him  into  a  fit, 

Then  streight  he  turns  a  Poet : 

His  jests  he  flings  at  States,  or  at  Kings, 

Or  at  Plays,  or  at  Bays,  or  at  shadows, 

Thinks  a  Verse  serves  as  well  as  a  Circle  or  Cell, 

Till  he  rimes  himself  to  the  Barbadows. 

He  that  within  these  Lines  can  live, 

May  baffle  all  disasters, 

To  Fortune  and  Fate  commands  he  can  give, 

Who[m]  Wor[l]dlings  call  their  Masters  ; 

He  may  sing,  he  may  quaff,  he  may  drink,  he  may 

May  be  mad,  may  be  sad,  may  be  jolly,  (laugh, 

He  may  sleep  without  care  and  speak  without  fear, 

And  laugh  at  the  world  and  its  folly. 


A  Catch. 

Hat  Fortune  had  I,  poor  Maid  as  I  am, 
To  be  bound  in  eternal  vow, 
For  ever  to  lye  by  the  side  of  a  man, 
That  would,  but  knows  not  how  ? 

Y3  Oh 


w 


342  The  Second  Part  of 

Oh  can  there  no  pity 
Be  in  such  a  City, 
Where  Lads  enough  are  to  be  had. 

Unfortunate  Girl,  that  art  wed  to  such  woe, 

Go  seek  thee  a  lively  Lad, 
And  let  the  poor  that  hath  nothing  to  shew 
Go  seek  for  another  as  bad  ; 

Then  call  for  no  pity   [,] 
Thou  dweltst  in  a  City, 
Where  Lads  enough  were  to  be  had. 


Advice  to  Batchelors. 

HE  that  intends  to  take  a  Wife, 
I'll  tell  him  what  a  kind  of  life 

He  must  be  sure  to  lead  ; 
If  she's  a  young  and  tender  heart, 
Not  documented  in  Loves  Art, 

Much  teaching  she  will  need. 

But  where  there  is  no  path,  one  may 
Be  tir'd  before  he  find  the  way, 

Nay,  when  he's  at  his  treasure, 
The  gap  perhaps  will  prove  so  straight, 
That  he  for  entrance  long  may  wait, 

And  make  a  toyl  ofs  pleasure. 

Or 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  343 

Or  if  one  old,  and  past  her  doing, 
He  will  the  Chamber-maid  be  wooing, 

To  buy  her  ware  the  cheaper, 
But  if  he  chuse  one  most  formose, 
Ripe  for't,  she'll  prove  libidinous, 

Argus  himself  shan't  keep  herr 

For  when  those  things  are  neatly  drest, 
They'l  entertain  each  wanton  guest, 
Nor  for  their  honour  care, 
If  any  give  their  pride  a  fall, 
Th'  have  learn'd  a  trick  to  bear  withal, 
So  you  their  charges  bear. 

So  if  you  chance  to  play  your  game 
With  a  dull,  fat,  gross,  heavy  Dame, 

Your  riches  to  encrease, 
Alas  !  she  will  but  jear  you  for't, 
Bid  you  to  find  out  better  sport, 

Lie  with  a  pot  of  grease. 

If  meager be  thy  delight, 

She'l  conquer  in  venerial  fight, 

And  waste  thee  to  the  bones  : 
Such  kind  of  girles,  like  to  your  Mill, 
The  more  you  give,  the  more  crave  they  will, 

Or  else  they'l  grind  the  stones. 
Y4 


344  The  Second  Part  of 

If  black,  'tis  ods  she's  dev'lish  proud, 
If  short,  Zantippe  like,  too  loud, 

If  long,  she'l  lazy  be, 
Foolish  (the  Proverb  saith)  if  fair, 
If  wise  and  comely,  danger's  there, 

Lest  she  do  cuckold  thee. 

If  she  bring  store  of  money,  such 
Are  like  to  domineer  too  much, 

Prove  Mistris,  no  good  wife, 
And  when  they  cannot  keep  you  under, 
They'l  fill  the  house  with  scolding  thunder 

What  worse  than  such  a  life  ; 

But  if  her  Dowry  only  be 
Beauty,  farewel  felicity, 

Thy  fortunes  cast  away. 
Thou  must  be  sure  to  satisfie  her 
In  belly,  and  in  back-desire, 

To  labour  night  and  day. 

And  rather  than  her  pride  give  o'r, 
She'l  turn  perhaps  an  honoured  whore, 

And  thou'lt  Acteorid  be, 
Whilst  like  Acteon  thou  maist  weep, 
To  think  thou  forced  art  to  keep 

Such  as  devour  thee. 

If 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  345 

If  being  noble  thou  dost  wed 
A  servile  Creature,  basely  bred, 

Thy  Family  it  defaces  ; 
If  being  mean,  one  nobly  bora, 
She'l  swear  t'  exalt  a  Courtlike  horn, 

Thy  low  descant  it  graces. 

If  one  tongue  be  too  much  for  any, 
Then  he  who  takes  a  wife  with  many, 

Knows  not  what  may  betide  him  ; 
She  whom  he  did  for  learning  honour, 
To  scold  by  book  will  take  upon  her, 

Rhetorically  chide  him. 

If  both  her  Parents  living  are, 

To  please  them  you  must  take  great  care, 

Or  spoyl  your  future  fortune, 
But  if  departed  th'  are  this  life, 
You  must  be  parent  to  your  wife, 

And  father  all,  be  certain. 

If  bravely  drest,  fair  fac'd  and  witty, 
She'l  oft  be  gadding  to  the  City, 

Nor  may  you  say  her  nay, 
She'l  tell  you  (if  you  her  deny) 
Since  women  have  Terms,  she  knows  not  why, 

But  they  still  keep  them  may. 

If 


346  The  Second  Part  of 

If  you  make  choice  of  Country  ware, 
Of  being  Cuckold  there's  less  fear, 

But  stupid  honesty 

May  teach  her  how  to  sleep  all  night ; 
And  take  a  great  deal  more  delight 

To  milk  the  Cows  than  thee. 

Concoction  makes  their  blood  agree 
Too  near,  where's  consanguinity ; 

Then  let  no  kin  be  chosen  : 
He  loseth  one  part  of  his  treasure, 
Who  thus  confineth  all  his  pleasure 

To  th'  arms  of  his  first  Couzen. 

He'll  never  have  her  at  command, 
Who  takes  a  wife  at  second  hand ; 

Then  chuse  no  widdowed  mother  : 
The  first  cut,  of  that  bit  you  love, 
If  others  had,  why  mayn't  you  prove 

But  taster  to  another  ? 

Besides,  if  she  bring  children  many, 
Tis  like  by  thee  she'l  not  have  any, 

But  prove  a  barren  Doe  ; 
Or  if  by  them,  she  ne'r  had  one, 
By  thee  'tis  likely  she'l  have  none, 

Whilst  thou  for  weak  back  go. 

For 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  347 

For  there  where  other  Gardeners  have  been  sowing 
Their  seed,  but  ne'r  could  find  it  growing     [,] 

You  must  expect  so  too  ; 
And  where  the  Terra  incognita 
S'  o'rplow'd,  you  must  it  fallow  lay, 

And  still  for  weak  back  go. 

Then  trust  not  to  a  maiden  face, 
Nor  confidence  in  widdows  place, 

Those  weaker  vessels  may 
Spring-leak,  or  split  against  a  rock, 
And  when  your  Fame's  wrapt  in  a  smock, 

Tis  easily  cast  away. 

Yet  be  she  fair,  foul,  short,  or  tall, 
You  for  a  time  may  love  them  all, 

Call  them  your  soul,  your  life, 
And  one  by  one  them  undermine, 
As  Courtizan,  or  Concubine, 

But  never  as  married  wife. 
He  who  considers  this,  may  end  the  strife, 
Confess  no  trouble  like  unto  a  Wife. 


348  The  Second  Part  of 


A  Catch. 

IF  any  so  wise  is,  that  Sack  he  despises, 
Let  him  drink  small  beer,  and  be  sober, 
Whilst  we  drink  Sack  and  sing,  as  if  it  were  spring, 
He  shall  droop  like  the  Trees  in  October. 
But  be  sure  if  over  night  this  dog  do  you  bite, 
You  take  it  henceforth  for  a  warning, 
Soon  as  out  of  your  bed,  to  settle  your  head, 
Take  a  hair  of  his  tail  in  the  morning. 
And  be  not  so  silly  to  follow  old  Lilly, 
For  there's  nothing  but  Sack  that  can  tune  us, 
Let  his  Ne-assuescas  be  put  in  his  cap  case, 
And  sing  bi-M-to  vinum  Jejunus. 


\8\-  ; 

J 

*      A  Mock  Song. 

\  yl  T  Hen  I  a  Lady  do  intend  to  flatter 
V  V     Oh,  how  I  do  begin  to  chatter ; 

I  swear  and  vow 
How  much  I'd  do, 
That  I  might  once  get  at  her 


Merry  Drollerie,  Complete.  349 

I  say  to  kiss  her  only  is  a  Feast, 
A  Cupids  Beaver  at  the  least, 
Whilst  silly  she 

Believeth  me, 

And  thinks  I  love  her  best. 

With  those  fair  phansies  which  most  comely  are, 
I  oft  her  Ladyship  compare ; 
I  say  the  Rose 

And  Lilly,  when  it  blowes, 

Are  nothing  near  so  fair. 

Yet  gazing  on  her  face  I've  spent  some  hours, 
Consulted  with  each  cheek,  and  all  its  powers, 
But  there  none  grew, 

Unless  below, 

In  pleasures  garden  -  spring  her  flowers. 

Oft  have  I  call'd  her  Jewel,  oft  have  I 
CalFd  true,  the  false  pearls  of  her  eye, 
Yet  precious  stone 

She  will  have  none, 

Until  with  me  she  lie. 

With  what  pure  whiteness  is  her  bosome  blest, 
Oft  cry  I,  yet  I  do  but  jest ; 

For  sure  I'm  still, 
She  never  will, 

Untill  I  s her  have  a  milk  white  breast. 

Then 


350  The  Second  Part  of,  &c. 

Then  tell  her  by  the  rowling  of  her  eyes, 

I  gues  her  secret  rarities, 

Swear  he  who  enjoyes 
Those  pleasant  toyes, 
Ought  much  to  esteem  the  prize. 

Thus  Ladies  have  I  learn'd  in  Cupids  schools, 
My  Master  Ovids  Grammer  Rules : 
Thus  can  I  prove 

I  am  in  love, 

And  thus  I  make  ye  fools. 


FINIS. 


[35i] 


The  Contents  of  the  First  Part 

[Edition  1691,]  Page 
Ow  I  confess  I  am  in  love ...         ...  [7]     5 

Be  merry  in  sorrow ',  why  are  you  so  sad    [9]     7 
Amerillis  told  her  swaine          ...         ...  [10]     8 

Call  for  the  Master  oh  this  is  fine       ...  [  1 1  ]     9 

Once  was  I  sad  till  I  grew  to  be  mad  ...  [i  2]  i  o 

When  first  Mardike  was  made  a  Prey...  [14]  12 

Of  all  the  Crafts  that  I  do  know          17 

The  thirsty  Earth  drinks  up  the  Rain ...         ...         21 

To  friend  and  to  foe       ...         ...         ...         ...         23 

The  Fashions  [:  The  Turk  in  linen,  &c.j         ...         25 
Tobacco  that  is  withered  quite  ...         ...         ...         26 

There  was  a  Jovial  Tinker      ...         ...         ...         27 

Noiv  Gentlemen  if  you  will  hear  ...         ...         29 

The  Hunt  is  up 30 

Of  an  old  Souldier  of  the  Queen  ...         ...         31 

If  thou  wilt  know  how  to  chuse  a  shrew          ...         32 
Come  my  delicate  bonny  sweet  Betty     ...         ...         34 

Nay, prethee  dontfly  me,  &c.    ...         ...         ...         36 

A  fox  a  fox  up  Gallants  to  the  field    ...         ...         38 

Ah  Ah  come  see  what 's  here     ...         ...         ...         4° 

Let 


[352]  The  Contents. 

Let  dogs  and  dwells  dye            ...         ...  ...  41 

A  young  man  that  in  Love  &c, ...          ...  ...  42 

There  dwelt  a  maid  &c. ...          ...          ...  ...  46 

The  spring  is  coming  on  and  our  bloud  &c,  ...  47 

Doctors  lay  by  your  Irksome  books       ...  ...  48 

There  was  an  old  man  &c.        ...          ...  ...  52 

Come  Jack  lets  drink,  or  the  Cavaleers  complaint  52 

The  Answer  to  it\\I  marvel,  Dick,  &c.]  ...  54 

All  in  the  land  of  Essex            ...         ...  ...  56 

My  Mistris  is  a  Skittle- Cock    ...         ...  ...  60 

Will  you  hear  a  strange  thing  &c         ...  ...  62 

Of  nothing  a  new  song  [:  Pie  sing  you  a  Sonnet']  66 

Bacchus  lam  come  from  &c.    ...         ...  ...  69 

Be  not  thou  so  foolish  nice        ...         ...  ...  69 

Aske  me  no  more  \why  there  appears]  &c.  ...  70 

A  Sessions  was  held  the  other  day        ...  ...  72 

/  came  unto  a  Puritan  to  woe  ...         ...  ...  77 

Good  Lord  what  a  pass  is  this  world  &c  ...  79 

Walking  abroad  in  a  morning  ...         ...  ...  8 1 

In  Eighty  Eight  &c ...  82 

Nay  out  upon  this  fooling  for  shame     ...  ...  84 

If  every  woman  was  serif  d  in  her  kind  ...  85 

Some  Christian  People  all  give  ear       ...  ...  87 

Come  my  Daphne  come  away   ...         ...  ...  91 

Cast  your  Caps  and  cares  away           ...  ...  92 

When  first  the  Scottish  war  began         ...  ...  93 

My  Brethren  all  attend            ...         ...  ...  95 

Come  lefs  drink  the  time  invites           ...  ...  97 

In  the  merry  month  of  May     ...         ...  ...  99 

Roome 


The  Contents.  [353] 

Roomefor  the  best  of  Poets  Heroick     i  oo 

/  tell  thee  Dick  where  I  have  been      ...  ...  i  o  i 

How  happy  is  the  prisoner  &c.            ...  ...  107 

/  met  with  the  divel  in  the  shape  of  a  Ram    ...  109 

The  world's  a  bubble,  &c         ...          ...  ...  no 

The  Proctors  are  two  and  no  more      ...  ...  in 

My  Mistris  whom  in  heart  &c.          ...  ...  113 

Tis  not  the  Silver  nor  Gold     ...         ...  ...  115 

After  so  many  sad  mishaps     ...         ...  ...  118 

Come  lets  purge  our  brains      ...          ...  ...  121 

What  though  the  [ill']  times    ...         ...  ...  124 

Lay  by  your  pleading  [Law  lies,  &c.]...  ...  125 

I  am  a  bonny  scot        ...          ...          ...  ...  127 

/'//  tell  thee  a  story,  &c.          ...         ...  ...  131 

Fll go  no  more  to  the  old  Exchange     ...  ...  134 

Lets  call  and  drink  the  Celler  [dry]    ...  ...  138 

There  is  [a]  lusty  Liquor        ...         ...  ...  1 40 

Three  merry  lads  met  at  the  Rose       ...  ...  143 

Of  all  the  Recreations  which  ...         ...          [146]  130 

Tom  and  Will  were  shepherds            ...  ...  149 

Wake  all  you  dead  what  O     ...         ...          [I5I]  I3I 

There  [is]  a  certain  idle  kind  of  creature         [  *  5  2]  J  5  5 

The  Bow  Goose  [:  The  best  of  Poets,  &c.]  ...  153 
News\f\   White  Hears,  &c      ...         ...          [I59]I53 

We  seamen  are  the  bonny  boys            ...  ...  162 

My  Mistris  is  in  Musick passing,  &c  ...  163 

When  the  Chill  charakoe  blows          ...  ...  164 

Now  thanks  to  the  powers  below         ...  ...  166 

A  maiden  of 'late  &c    ...         ...         ...  ...  170 

z  After 


[354]  The  Contents. 

After  the  pains  of  a  desperate  Lover   ...         ...  171 

Blind  fortune  if  thou  want  s\f\  ...         ...  172 

From  Mahomet  and  Paganisme          ...         ...  174 

God  bless  my  good  Lord  \Bishop\       ...         ...  177 

Of  all  the  rare  sciences  ...         ...         ...  178 

Heard  you  not  lately  of  a  man  ...         ...  1 80 

The  Medly  of  the  Country  man  Citizen  and  souldier  182 

No  man  loves  fiery  passion  can  approve          ...  187 

When  blind  God  Cupid  &c 1 88 

Come  Drawer  come  fill  us  &c.  ...         ...  190 

Lay  by  your  pleading  [Love  lies,  &c.]  ...  191 

Bring forth  your  Cunny  skin ...          ...          ...  196 

From  hunger  and  cold  &c.       ...         ...         ...  197 

Roome for  a  Gamester ...         ...         ...         ...  197 

Gather  your  Rose  buds  ...         ...         ...  199 

A  story  strange  I  will  you  tell  ...         ...  200 

I  am  a  Rogue  and  a  stout  one  ...         ...  204 

Stay  shut  the  Gate      207 


The  Second  Part. 

Hold  quaffe  no  more    ...          ...          ...          ...  210 

Had  she  not  care  enough          ...         ...         ...  211 

Here's  a  health  to  his  Majesty  ...          ...  212 

But  since  it  was  \lately\  enacted  high  Treason  212 

Cock  Laurel  \would  needs  have:]  by  Ben  Johnson  214 

A  fig  for  care  \why  should  we  spare]  ...         ...  217 

Let  Souldiers  fight  for  praise,  &c 218 

Nctr 


The  Contents.  [355] 

Ne'er  trouble  thy  self  at  the  times        ...  ...  219 

Three  merry  boys  came  out  of  the  West  ...  220 

Calm  was  the  Evening           ...         ...  ...  220 

Therms  many  a  blinking  Verse  &c      ...  ...  221 

The  Blacksmith  [:  Of  all  the  Trades}  ...  225 

Come  my  dainty  dooces             ...         ...  ...  230 

Come  Imp  Royal  &c.  . . .         ...         ...  ...  231 

\The  Wisemen  \were  but  seven\            ...  ...  232 

\How poor  is  his  spirit,  &c      ...         ...  ...  232 

\[Am]  I  am  mad  O  noble  Festus         ...  ...  234 

I  dote  I  dote  but  am  a  fool  &c.            ...  ...  237 

\LadiesIdoherepresent          ...         ...  ...  240 

-The  Comb  ate  of  Cocks  [:  Go  you  tame  Gallants]       242 

\Come  let 's  f rollick  fill  some  Sack         ...  ...  246 

j  What  is  that  you  call  a  Maidenhead  ...  ...  249 

I  When  Phoebus  addrest  &c.     ...          ...  ...  250 

vL  Brewer  may  be  a  Burgess  grave     ...  ...  252 

jOliver  Oliver  [take  up  thy  crown\      ...  ...  254 

|  When  I  do  travell  in  the  night.           ...  ...  255 

Eglamore  {that  valiant  Knighi\  ...  ...  257 

Jf  none  be  offended  &c ...  2^0 

J                                          JJ  J  X 

Come  drawer  and  fill  us  &c  ...         ...  ...  263 

The  Bulls  feather  [:  It  chanced  not  long  ago~\  ...  264 

You  talk  of  new  England       ...         ...  ...  266 

Come  drawer  turn  about  the  Bowie    ...  ...  268 

Pray  why  should  any  man  complain  ...  ...  270 

What  an  ass  is  he       ...         ...         ...  ...  273 

\My  masters  give  audience        ...         ...  ...  275 

\The  Aphorismes  of  Galen       ...         277 

z  2  Now 


[356]  The  Contents. 

Now  I  am  merrier  \i.e.  married}  Sir  John   ... 

/  have  reason  to  fly  thee 

I  have  the  fairest  Non-perel    ... 

A  re  you  grown  so  melancholly ... 

Sublimest  discretions  have  climVd  &c  . . . 

A  pox  on  the  Jay  lor  ... 

My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground 

From  the  fair  Lavinian  shore. .. 

Fetch  me  Ben  Johnsons  scull  &c. 

Now  that  the  spring  &c. 

Of  all  the  sports  in  the  world ... 

The  wily  wily  Fox 

She  lay  all  naked  &c.  ... 

Some  wives  are  good  &c. 

Call  George  again 

Pox  take  your  Mistris ...         ...         ...         ... 

The  Answer  [:  I  pray  thee,  Drunkard^ 

She  that  will  eat  her  breakfast 

St.  George  for  England  [:  Why  should  we,  &c.] 

Arthur  of  Bradley  [Saw  you  not  Pierce] 

On  the  Oxford  feasts  [:  I  tell  thee,  Kit,]       . . . 

There  were  three  Cooks  in  Colebrook 

The  Blacksmith  [:  Of  all  the  Sciences} 

When  Ise  came  first  to  London  Town 

The  merry  good  fellow  [:  Why  should  we  not  laugJi\  326 

The  Rebels  Reign  [:  Now  we  are  met]  ...         326 

Have  you  obsertfd  the  wench  in  the  street       ...         332 

A  new  Medley  [:  Let  the  trumpet  sound\        ...         333 

Shew  a  Room  shew  a  Room &c.         ...         ...         339 

Why 


The  Contents.  [357] 

\Vhy  should  a  man  care  or  be  in  despair  . . .  ibid 

YTe  that  a  happy  life  would  lead         ...  ...  339 

yVhat  fortune  had  /,  poor  maid  that  I  am  ...  341 

He  that  intends  to  take  a  wife. . .         ...  ...  342 

Yf  any  so  wise  is,  that  Sack  he  despises  . . .  347 

4  mock  Song  [:  When  1  a  Lady,  &c.]  ...  348 


[The  Editor  felt  compelled  to  retain  the  present  Table  of  Con- 
lents,  since  it  appeared  in  the  original,  although  it  is  less  convenient 
than  A  Table  of  First  Lines  alphabetically  arranged.  But  such  a 
jable  (marking,  by  distinct  class  of  type,  which  songs  appeared 
only  in  the  1661  edition)  will  be  given  in  the  next  volume,  for 
the  present  work  inclusive.] 


Books 


[358] 


Books  Printed  for,  or  sold  by  Simon 
Miller,  at  the  Star  at  the  West-end 
of  St.  Pauls. 


Quarto. 

PHysical  Experiments,  being  a  Plain  Description 
of  the  Causes,  Signs,  and  Cures  of  most  Disea- 
ses incident  to  the  body  of  man ;  with  a  Dis- 
course of  Witchcraft.     By  William  Drage,  Practitioner 
of  Physick  at  Hitchin  in  Hartfordshire. 
Bishop  White,  upon  the  Sabbath. 
The  Artificial  Changeling. 
The  life  of  Tamerlain. 

The  Pragmatical  Jesuite.     A  Play  by  Richard  Car- 
penter. 

Large  Octavo. 

Mr.  Shepherd,  on  the  Sabbath. 
The  Rites  of  the  Crown  of  England,  as  it  is  esta- 
blished 


[359] 

blished  by  Law ;  By  E.  Bagshaw  of  the  Inner-Temple, 
An  Enchiridion  of  fortification. 
Merry  Drollery  Compleat 

Small  Octavo. 
Butler,  of  War. 
Ramsey,  of  Poysons. 
Artimedorus,  of  Dreams, 
Record,  of  Urines. 
The  History  of  Fortunatus. 
The  History  of  Daphnis  and  Cloe. 

Large  Twelves. 

Oxford  Jeasts. 

Dr.  Smith's  Practice  of  Physick. 

The  third  part  of  the  Bible  and  New  Testament 

The  duty  of  every  one  that  will  be  saved  ?  being 
Rules,  Precepts,  Promises,  and  examples,  Directing 
all  Persons  of  what  degree  soever,  how  to  govern 
their  Passions,  and  to  live  virtuously  and  soberly  in 
the  World.  Dr.  Spurstow's  Meditations. 

Small  Twelves. 

The   understanding  -  Christians  -  Duty. 
A  Help  to  Prayer. 
Hell  Torments  Shaken. 

A    New    Method    of    Preserving   and    Restoring 
Health,  by  the  vertue  of  Coral  and  Steel. 
David9 s  Sling. 


Appendix. 


3^3 


APPENDIX 


Notes,  Various  Readings,  and  Emendations 

of  Text, 
(NOW  FIRST  ADDED). 


N.B. — The  great  bulk  of  the  1691  edition  of  Merry 
Drollery,  Complete,  renders  it  expedient  that  we  limit  the 
present  series  of  Notes  within  the  smallest  convenient 
space.  Many  important  Notes  and  Illustrations  are  con- 
sequently reserved  for  a  COMPANION  VOLUME,  which  will 
also  give  the  thirty-four  Songs  and  Poems  that  appeared 
in  the  1661  edition;  not  reprinted  when  the  work  gained 
the  addition  of  twenty-six  Songs,  as  mentioned  in  our 
Introduction,  p.  v.  By  the  help  of  a  Table  of  First 
Lines,  arranged  in  strictly  alphabetical  order,  to  be  added 
afterwards,  the  reader  will  discern  at  one  glance  in  what 
editions  each  song  appeared. 

The  twenty-six  Additional  Songs,  not  in  the  1661  edi- 
tion, are  those  that  begin  respectively  on  our  pages  8,  9, 
21,  66,  99,  143,  146,  i49>  J5i>  I7J>  17%>  2^I>  2*2>  2*7>  2I9> 
220  (bis),  232,  287,  289,  290,  291,  292,  293,  302,  and  317. 
To  all  the  others  the  date  1661  (or  earlier)  applies.  Some 
of  the  twenty-six  were  not  written  until  about  1670. 

In  the  same  volume  we  hope  to  be  able  to  give  the 
Additional  Songs  that  were  inserted  in  the  1674  edition 
of  WESTMINSTER  DROLLERY  ;  with  Notes  to  them. 


MERRY  DROLLERY,  COMPLETE. 

Part  1st.     Page  8  [10].     Amarillis  told  her  Swain. 

This  is  Maria's  Song,  in  THOMAS  PORTER'S  tragedy, 
The  Villain,  1663,  Act  ii.  The  music  is  given  in  Wm. 
Chappell's  excellent  "Popular  Music  of  the  Olden 

Time," 


364  APPENDIX. 

Time/'  p.  284.     The  tune  was  also  known  as  "Phillis 
on  the  new-made  Hay."     In  Roxburghe  Coll.,  ii.  85. 

Page  9  [n].     Call  for  the  Master :  oh,  this  isfne  ! 

Also  in  Windsor  Drollery,  p.  102.     A  history  might  be 
written   of  the  various  gangs   of   Roysterers  who  have 
successively  made  night  hideous   in    London    by    their 
noise.     In  Dean  Swift's  time  they  were  styled  Mohawks, 
or  Mohocks,  from  their  imitating  the  Indian  war-whoop. 
At  beginning  of  this  century  they  were  Tom  and  Jerry 
men.     Here  we  have  them  as  Hectors.      But,  as  Charles 
Mathews  would  say,    "  It's  the  same-drunk,    Master." 
Verrinus  seems  to  have  been  superfine  tobacco.     John 
Philips,  in  his  Splendid  Shilling  (of  which  we  possess  the 
earliest  edition,  1701)  speaks  of  the  hero's  discomfort : — 
But  I  .  .  .  .  from  Tube  as  black 
As  'winters  chimney,  or  'well  polish* d  Jett, 
Exhale  Mundungus's  ill-perfuming  smoak. 

Page  12.  [14]      When  first  Mardyke  twas  made  a  prey. 

With  music,  in  Pills  v.  65.  Loyal  Garland  (i3th  ed., 
1686).  Roxb.  Coll.,  ii.  431,  printed  for  P.  Brooksby.  Bag- 
ford  Coll.,  i.  69.  The  date  of  Dunkirk  being  taken  was 
June  26,  1658.  But  Mardyke,  or  Moerdyke,  which  seems 
to  have  been  considered  the  key  to  Dunkirk,  had  been 
captured  in  the  previous  campaign,  1657,  by  the  French 
conjoined  with  the  English  under  Reynolds.  Charles  II. 
afterwards  selling  Dunkirk  to  King  Lewis,  in  1662,  was 
felt  as  a  sore  disgrace. 

Page  21. \^  The  thirsty  Earth  drinks  up  the  Rain. 

This  paraphrase  of  an  ode  by  the  bard  of  Teos  is  by 
ABRAHAM  COWLEY,  who  died  in  1667.  All  of  Cowley's 
Anacreontiques  are  charmingly  airy  and  graceful.  Given 
in  Wit  &  Mirth,  1684;  in  Ritson's  English  Sgs.,  ii.  24; 
and  as  an  appropriate  finale  to  his  Introduction  on  Fes- 
tive Sgs.,  by  W.  Sandys,  Percy  Soc.,  xxiii. 

Page  23.     To  Friend  and  to  Foe. 

In  Wit  &  Mirth,  1684,  p.  104,  and  in  the  Hive,  ii.  176,  as 
"  The  Married  Man's  Items."  Page 


APPENDIX.  365 

Page  25.     The  Turk  in  linnen  'wraps  his  head. 

This  favourite  song  on  the  Englishman's  fickle  whims  re- 
garding dress,  aping  his  neighbours,  is  by  THOMAS 
HEYWOOD,  in  his  "  Challenge  for  Beauty,"  1636,  and  also 
in  his  "  Rape  of  Lucrece,"  before  1638  (first  edit.,  1608  ?) 
Beginning  omitted,  as  also  from  the  Percy  Folio  MS.,  iv. 
77.  It  should  commence  thus  : — 

The  Spaniard  loves  his  ancient  slop ; 

The  Lombard  his  Venetian  ; 
And  some  like  breechless  'women  go, 

The  Russe,  Turk,  Jerw,  and  Grecian. 
The  threysly  Frenchman  'wears  small  rwaist> 

The  Dutch  his  belly  boasteth  ; 
The  Englishman  is  for  them  all, 

And  for  each  fashion  coasteth. 

The  Turk,  &c. 

Kubrick  beer  is  corruption  of  Lubeck  beer.  Chippin,  for 
Choppine  :  mentioned  in  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  A  later  reading 
(inferior)  for  "  Comely  Fro,"  i.e.,  Frau,  has  "  lovely 
Erse,"  or  Gael.  Fairholt  gives  the  song,  under  "  English 
Mutability  in  Dress,"  Percy  Soc.,  xvii.  141  (Costume); 
and  a  picture  of  the  "  Monmouth  Cap"  (2nd  verse)  on 
p.  115. 

Page  26.     Tobacco  that  is  'withered  quite. 

William  Chappell  refers  to  this  from  the  1670  edition,  but 
it  is  also  in  that  of  1661,  p.  16.  He  gives  us  from  a  MS 
Collection,  time  of  James  I.,  belonging  to  J.  P.  Collier,  a 
copy  of  the  earliest  known  form  of  this  song,  beginning 
"  Why  should  we  so  much  despise  :"  Pop.  Music,  ii.  563. 
It  bears  the  initials  G.  W.,  possibly  for  GEORGE  WITHER, 
a  tedious  rhymester  in  his  later  days  when  sanctimonious, 
and  continually  in  trouble,  but  a  genuine  son  of  Apollo, 
as  shown  by  his  earlier  poems.  His  "  Shepherd's  Hunt- 
ing," his  "Mistress  of  Phil 'arete,"  and  even  the  bitter 
satire,  "  Abuses  stript  and  whipt,"  possess  poetry  enough 
to  float  a  dozen  "  England's  Hallelujah"  hulks. 

With  music,  as  "  Tobacco  is  but  an  Indian  weed,"  it  is 


366  APPENDIX. 

in  Pills,  315  (1699  ) ;  iii.  292  (1719) ;  as  also  in  Chappell, 
564.  Compare  a  vulgarized  "  This  Indian  weed,  now 
withered  quite,"  in  Bds.  and  Sgs.  of  the  Peasantry,  R. 
Bell's  edit,  p.  40. 

Page  27.     There  'was  a  Jovial  Tinker. 
With  music  to  it,  in  the  Pills,  v.  62. 

Page  29.     NOIV  Gentlemen,  if  you  'will  hear. 

Earlier  than  1660,  as  it  is  in  "  Le  Prince  dj Amour"  of 
that  date,  p.  178.  Probably  before  1649.  P.  d'A.  reads 
"thieves"  in  line  9th ;  Bazingstone.  Line  28,  cp.  Chaucer  : 
"It  snevued  in  his  house  of  meate  and  drink,"  C.  T. 

Page  30.     The  Hunt  is  up. 

We  know  not  of  this  particular  "  Hunt  is  up"  occurring 
elsewhere,  but  J.  P.  Collier  gives  from  MS.  "  The  King's 
Hunt  is  up,"  (?  1570),  six  stanzas,  beginning 

The  Hunt  is  up,  the  hunt  is  up, 

And  it  is  'well  nigh  daye, 
And  Harry  our  king  is  gone  hunting 

To  bring  his  deere  to  baye,"  &c. 

Extr.  Registers  Stat.  Comp.  (1848)1.  129. 

J.  P.  C.  (iQc.  cit)  also  gives  opening  stanza  of  a  religious 
parody,  and  one  from  a  love  serenade ;  all  begin  with  the 
same  common  line.  He  believed  the  one  he  transcribed 
might  be  [William]  Gray's,  mentioned  by  Puttenham, 
1589.  But  Dr.  Rimbault  gives  Gray's  in  his  Little  Book 
of  Sgs.  &  Bds.,  p.  69.  Also  the  beginning  of  one  in  Raw- 
linson  Collection,  Oxford. 

Page  31.     Of  an  Old  Sou  Idler  of  the  Queens. 

Tune,  "  The  Queens  old  Courtier  "  (for  which  see  Prince 
d' Amour,  1660  ;  and,  with  music  also  Chappell,  Pop.  M., 
300).  Cp.  Wit  and  Drollery,  "  Of  old  soldiers  the  song 
you  would  hear,"  and  "With  a  new  beard,"  1682,  pp.  165, 
282.  Page 


APPENDIX.  367 

Page  34.     Come  my  delicate  bonny  siveet  Betty. 

Not  found  elsewhere  as  yet.  Some  corruption  of  text  ap- 
parently, which  baffles  us.  In  line  8,  may  not  the  right 
word  be  Vulcan  ?  The  JEolus  in  third  verse  shows  a  like- 
lihood of  such  mythologic  allusions  as  to  Tellus  the  Earth, 
and  Vulcan. 


Page  36.     Nay,  prithee  don  Y  fly  me. 

For  the  answer  to  this,  "  I  have  reason  to  fly  thee,"  see 
page  281.  Both  are  by  ALEXANDER  BROME.  As  "The 
Leveller,"  among  his  Sgs.  (3rd  edit.,  1668),  12.  Also  in 
Rump  Collect.  (1662),  i.  265;  Loyal  Sgs.  (1731),  i.  158. 
"  Grinning  honour  "  is  a  phrase  borrowed  from  Falstaff, 
Henry  IV.  Pt.  i.  Act  v.  Sc.  3. 


Page  52,   53.     Come,   Jack,  lets  drink,    and   /  marvel, 
Dick,  &c. 

See  introduction,  p.  xxi.  In  Bagford  Coll.  Bds.,  iii.  23,  a 
copy  "printed  for  N.  Butter,  1660"  [-61?].  Antidote 
ag.  Melancholy  (1661),  49,  51.  Dryden's  Misc.  Poems, 
vi.,352.  Percy  Soc.,  iii.,  257,  259.  Wilkins'  Pol.  Bds., 
i.  162,  165. 

Page  56.     All  in  the  Land  of  Essex. 

Date  before  1653-4.  It  is  satisfactory  to  remember  that 
SIR  JOHN  DENHAM,  the  reputed  author  of  this  objec- 
tionable but  clever  ballad,  was  afterwards  rendered 
sufficiently  uncomfortable  (when  he  had  married  a  young 
wife,  handsome  and  unprincipled),  by  his  fits  of  jealousy 
and  by  the  attacks  made  against  him  by  infuriated  mobs, 
;  who  could  not  sympathise  with  him  for  the  amiable 
weakness  he  was  suspected  to  have  shown  in  poisoning 
Elizabeth  Lady  Denham.  She  seems  well  to  have  de- 
served her  fate,  despite  her  voluptuous  beauty ;  but 
perhaps  that  is  scarcely  extenuation.  We  see  her  portrait 
among  Sir  Peter  Lely's  Court  Beauties,  and  read  the 
history  in  De  Grammont  and  elsewhere,  Mrs.  Jameson 
not  shirking  the  difficulties.  Denham  was  a  strange 

mixture 


368  APPENDIX. 

mixture  of  dirt  and  precious  metal.  His  "  Lines  on  the 
death  of  Cowley"  dispose  us  to  love  him,  and  the  way  in 
which  he  saved  George  Wither  is  a  perfection  of  humour. 
This  "  Colchester  Quaker "  is  also  in  the  Rump,  early 
edition,  1660,  p.  6;  1662,  i.  354;  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  231,  the 
editions  of  Denham  and  of  CLEVELAND.  Tune,  Tom  of 
Bedlam, like  "Am  I  mad  ?"  Compare  "All  you  that  have 
two,"  &c.,  and  "  All  Christians  and  Lay  Elders  too,"  in 
the  Rump,  i.  358 ;  i.  350. 
« _ 

Page  60.     My  Mistris  is  a  skittle-cock. 
In  Wit  and  Drollery,  1661.     Tune,  "To  all  you  Ladies." 

Page  62.     Will  you  hear  a  strange  thing,  &c. 

See  Introduction,  p.  xviii.  Date,  April,  1653.  It  is  also  in 
the  Rump  Coll.,  i.  305.  Loyal  Sgs.  i.  189.  Wilkins 
Polit.  Bds.,  i.  100.  Compare  Carlyle's  Cromwell. 

Page  66.     Vie  sing  you  a  Sonnet,  &c. 

Tune,  "  The  Blacksmith,"  giving  it  the  popular  burden 
of  "Which  no  body  can  deny;  "  in  Pills  iii.  138.  Old 
Bds.,  1727,  iii.  187.  Windsor  Drollery,  1672,  p.  93. 

Page  69.     Bacchus,  I  am  [,]  come  from,  &c. 

This  (not  found  elsewhere)  is  a  parody  on  John  Fletcher's 
song,  in  "  The  Mad  Lover,"  Act  iv.  Sc.  i  — 

Orpheus  I  am,  come  from  the  deeps  beloiv, 

To  thee,fond  man,  the  plagues  of  love  to  show. 

To  the  fair  ji  elds  'where  loves  eternal  divell  [&c. 

There's  none  that  come,  butjirst  they  pass  through  hell, 

It  is  sung  by  Stremon,  disguised  as  Orpheus,  to  sooth  the 
Mad  Lover,  Memnon.  Date  before  1625,  but  not  printed 
until  1647. 

Page  69.     Be  not  thou  so  foolish  nice. 

Before  1656,  as  it  is  in  Musarum  Delicite,  p.  58;  1873  Re- 
print, p.  75.  Page 


APPENDIX.  369 

Page  70.     Aske  me  no  more  ivhy  there  appears. 

Asserted  to  have  been  written  in  1642,  and  not  improbably 
by  THOMAS  JORDAN.  It  is  in  his  "  Royal  Arbor  of  Loyal 
Poesie"  (1664);  p.  84  of  J.  P.  Collier's  Reprint.  Rump 
(1662),  i.  68.  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  41. 

Page  72.     A  Session  ivas  held  the  other  day. 

By  SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING.  Written  about  1637 ;  and 
found,  with  a  few  variations,  but  always  the  one  broken 
verse,  in  all  editions  of  his  poems.  Compare  other  Ses- 
sions, viz.,  "  Apollo  concerned  to  view  the  transgressions," 
Poems  on  State  Affairs,  i.  206  ;  Rochester's,  or  Villiers's 
"  Since  the  sons  of  the  Muses  ;  "  R.'s,  and  V.'s  Poems  ; 
and  "One  night  the  great  Apollo  pleased  with  Ben," 
(With  Notes  to  each  of  these,  and  to  the  present  poem,  in 
our  forthcoming  Reprint)  in  the  rare  "  Choice  Drollery," 
1656. 

Page  77.     /  came  unto  a  Puritan  to  ivoo. 
Also  in  Rump  Coll.,  i.  194,  and  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  122. 

Page  82.     In  Eighty  Eight,  e'er  Iiv as  born. 

Also  in  Choice  Drollery,  1656,  p.  38,  the  earliest  printed 
version  known  to  us.  We  gave  the  Harleian  MS. 
version,  No.  791,  fol.  59,  in  Appendix  to  Westminster 
Drollery,  p.  38.  Cp.  the  very  different  re-casting,  "Some 
years  of  late,  in  eighty  eight,"  in  same  vol.,  Part  I.  p.  93  ; 
land  in  J.  O.  Halliwell's  Naval  Bds.,  Percy  Soc.,  ii.  18. 
_._. 

Page  85.     If  every  'woman  ivere  serif  d,  &c. 

With  music  in  Pills  (1700  and  1719),  iv.  no.  Also  in 
Windsor  Drollery,  57.  As  Hamlet  puts  it,  "  Give  every 
man  after  his  dessert,  and  who  shall  'scape  whipping  ?  " 

Page  87.     Some  Christian  people  all  gi've  ear. 

See  Introduction,  p.  ix.,  for  modern  condensation  of 
this  burlesque.  Tune,  Chevy  Chase.  Given  with  music 

in 
A  A 


370  APPENDIX. 

in  Pills,  iv.  i.  1719.  Dr.  Wagstaffe  quotes  first  verse  of 
modernization,  before  1726,  in  his  "  Character  of  Richard 
St[ee]le,  Esq." 

Page  91.     Come,  my  Daphne  y  come  aivay. 

By  JAMES  SHIRLEY,  whom  Charles  Lamb  designates 
"  the  last  of  a  great  race,  all  of  whom  spoke  nearly  the 
same  language,  and  had  a  set  of  moral  feelings  and  no- 
tions in  common."  We  sadly  need  a  fresh  edition  of 
Shirley  (and  of  Middleton),  Dyce's  work  of  1833  having 
become  scarce.  The  present  song  was  set  to  music  by 
William  Lawes.  It  belongs  to  Shirley's  tragedy,  "  The 
Cardinal,"  Act  v.  Sc.  3,  1652.  It  appears,  with  the 
music,  the  same  year,  in  Playford's  Select  Ay  res,  ii.,  p.  6. 
Title,  song  of  Strephon  and  Daphne.  In  Windsor  Drol- 
lery, 115.  Acad.  Compl.,  1670,  p.  206.  Wit's  Academy, 
79.  Dyce's  Shirley,  v.  344. 

Page  92.     Cast  your  Caps  and  cares  aivay. 

By  JOHN  FLETCHER,  in  "  Beggar's  Bush,"  Act  ii.  Sc.  i. ; 
before  1625.  Given  in  Windsor  Drollery,  87.  Sgs.  of 
Dramatists,  125. 

Page  93.      When  first  the  Scottish  War  began* 
Compare  Bagford  Coll.,  ii.  96.     In  Rump,  L  228 ;     Loyal 
Sgs.  (1731).  i-  5.8. 

Page  95.     My  Brethren  all  attend '„ 

See  Introduction,  p.  viii.  The  final  verse  touches  the  same 
chord  that  vibrates  so  sweetly  in  Mrs.  Hemans'  poem,  to 
which  her  sister  set  the  music.  We  would  gladly  give 
the  entire  poem,  though  men  ought  to  know  it  by  heart. 
The  Mayflower  Pilgrim  Fathers  belong  to  all  of  us,  and 
the  story  of  their  landing  and  of  their  early  privations  is 
perhaps  as  dear  even  as  that  of  the  Pitcairn  Islanders. 
Involuntarily,  there  breaks  through  the  burlesque  of 
Merry  Drollery  something  not  unallied  to  earnestness  in 
the  "  Zealous  Puritan."  Read  the  final  verse,  and  com- 
pare 


APPENDIX.  371 


pare  the  song  which  has  become  a  national  hymn  on  the 
shores  of  America  : — 

"  Not  as  the  flying  come, 

In  silence  and  in  fear,-^— 
They  shook  the  depths  of  the  forest  gloom 

With  their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer. 

Amid  the  storm  they  sang, 

And  the  stars  heard,  and  the  sea  / 
And  the  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  ivoods  rang 

To  the  anthem  of  the  free." 

Page  97.     Come,  let  us  drink,  the  time  invites. 

Loyal  Garland,  1686.  Repr.  by  Percy  Soc.,  xxix.  28. 
Old  Bds.,  iii.  159. 

Page  99.     In  the  merry  month  of  May. 

By  NICHOLAS  BRETON,  about  1580.  In  "England's 
Helicon,"  1600.  With  music  by  Dr.  John-  Wilson,  in 
Playford's  Select  Ay  res,  1659,  P-  99-  Also  among  Mad- 
rigals by  Michael  Este,  1604.  In  Pills,  iii.  51.  Percy's 
Reliques,  iii.  Bk.  I.  No.  10.  Calliope  (music,  1788),  309. 
Ritson,  Engl.  Sgs.,  i.  235. 

England's  Helicon  reads  : — In  a  morne ;,  Forth  I 'walked 
by  the  'wood-side ;  his  pride ;  Phillida  ;  God  wot,  He 
'would  love  &f  she  'would  not.  She  said  neuer  man  was 
true,  He  said,  none  rwas  false  to  you  \  haue  no.  wrong. 
Till  they  did ;  shepheard  call ;  witness  truth :  Never 
loved  a  truer  youth.  Was  made  the  lady,  &c. 

Page  100.     Room  for  the  best  Poets  heroic  ! 

This  first  appeared  among  "  Certain  [Satyrical]  Verses, 
written  by  several  of  the  Author's  friends,  to  be  reprinted 
with  the  second  edition  of  Gondibert."  [April  30]  1653. 
Another  poem  from  the  same  volume  is  given  on  our  page 
1 1 8,  beginning  "After  so  many  sore  mishaps."  These 
scurrilous  lampoons  on  Sir  William  D'Avenant  (whose 
mode  of  spelling  his  name  was  sneered  at,)  were  fol- 
lowed 


372  APPENDIX. 

lowed  by  another  volume,  entitled,  "  The  Incomparable 
Poem  of  Gondibert  Vindicated,"  &c,  Isaac  D' Israeli,  in 
an  interesting  paper  entitled  "D'Avenant  and  a  Club  of 
Wits  "  (in  his  "  Quarrels  of  Authors,"  pp.  403-414,  edit. 
1867),  gives  ample  evidence  that  this  second  volume  was 
by  the  same  or  similar  malicious  wits  as  the  "  Four 
Esquires  "  who  concocted  the  "  Certain  Verses."  .  The 
received  error  is  that  the  Vindication  came  from  the 
author :  even  Maidment  and  Logan,  recently  editing 
D'Avenant,  seem  to  think  thus,  they  having  probably, 
like  ourselves,  been  unable  to  see  the  later  publication. 
Aubrey  mentions  George  Villiers,  D.  of  Buckingham,  as 
being  responsible ;  but  the  Four  are  understood  to  have 
been  Sir  John  Denham  and  John  Donne,  Sir  Allan 
Broderick  and  Will  Crofts. 

Page  101.     /'//  tell  thee,  Dick,  "where  I  have  been. 

This  unequalled  "  Parley  between  two  West  Country- 
men," "  On  the  sight  of  a  Wedding,"  is  to  be  found  in 
the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  40;  Pills  iii.  132  (with 
the  music) ;  Dryden's  Misc.  Poems,  i.  154  (ed.  1716); 
and  all  editions  of  its  author,  SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING.  The 
wedding  referred  to  was  that  of  Roger  Boyle,  Lord  Brog- 
hill,  afterwards  first  Earl  of  Orrery,  with  the  beautiful 
Lady  Margaret  Howard,  daughter  of  Theophilus,  Earl  of 
Suffolk.  Suckling  wrote  another  poem  on  the  occasion, 
beginning  "  In  bed,  dull  man,  when  Love  and  Hymen's 
revels  are  begun."  The  exact  date  of  the  marriage  (Tho. 
Morrice,  in  memoir  of  Boyle,  does  not  give  it),  1641,  fixes 
that  of  the  poems.  Suffolk  house  with  its  grand  stair- 
case "  at  Charing  Cross,"  where  men  sold  their  hay,  has 
been  lately  destroyed  :  the  massive  Northumberland 
House.  The  mutilation  of  the  ballad,  in  1836,  by  the 
Rev.  Alfred  Suckling  (who  went  against  the  proverb,  and 
tried  to  dirty  his  own  family  nest  in  the  Memoir)  is  inex- 
cusable. Wm.  Chappell  gives  the  music,  Pop.  M.,p.  360. 
For  Imitations  of  this  Ballad,  see  Additional  Note,  and 
the  Appendix  to  Westminster  Drollery,  pp.  lxviii.-ix.; 
"  Now  that  Love's  Holyday,"  &c.,  was  by  John  Cleveland, 
before  1658. 

Page 


APPENDIX.  373 

Page  107.     HOIV  happy  is  the  Prisoner  fwho  conquers  his 
fate. 

This  song  appears  in  the  play  called  "  Cromwell's  Con- 
spiracy/' among  theThomason  pamphlets,  dated  1660,  as 
sung  by  Musicians  in  Act  iii.  Sc  ii.  But  we  find  it 
earlier,  in  "  Choice  Drollery,"  1656,  p.  93,  q.  'vide.  Pro- 
bably the  1660  "  Cromwell's  Conspiracy,"  which  is  anony- 
mous, "  by  a  Person  of  Quality,"  was  the  extension  of  an 
earlier  drama,  with  the  final  scenes  of  the  Rump-burning 
and  Restoration  added.  The  song  is  repeated  in  Windsor 
Drollery,  74,  and  in  the  Loyal  Garland  of  1686. 

We  feel  certain  that  the  above  must  have  been  remem- 
bered by  the  author  of  an  excellent  song,  "  Diogenes  surly 
and  proud,"  in  "  Wine  and  Wisdom ;  or,  the  Tippling 
Philosophers,"  1710,  to  which  music  was  set  by  Richard 
Leveridge,  from  whose  rich  voice  it  doubtless  came  rolling 
blithly.  This  song  was  originally  only  six  verses  (fifty- 
four  were  in  the  author's  Lyrick  Poem.)  We  possess 
seventeen  additional  verses  to  these  six,  in  various  early 
Song-books  of  last  century.  The  resemblance  to  (f  How 
happy  is  the  Prisoner,"  in  regard  to  Aristotle,  Copernicus, 
and  Diogenes  are  far  too  close  to  be  accidental.  Thus  of 
the  latter  we  read  : — 

But  growing  as  poor  as  a  Job, 

And  unable  to  purchase  a  flask, 
He  chose  for  his  mansion  a  Tub, 

And  liv'd  by  the  scent  of  the  cask. 

of  Copernicus,  indulging  in  wine  : — 

Then  fancied  the  'world,  like  his  brains, 
Turned  round  like  a  chariot  'wheel. 

Page  109.     /  met  'with  the  Divel  in  the  shape  of  a  Ram. 

An  old  proverb  says  that  the  Smith  and  his  penny  are 
both  black.  So  we  need  not  expect  that  a  Sowgelder's 
song  will  be  cleanly.  The  present  is  sung  by  Higgen, 
exalting  his  trade,  in  JOHN  FLETCHER'S  Comedy,  "  The 
Beggar's  Bush,"  Act  iii.,  Sc.  i.  Date  probably  about 
1622,  or  earlier.  In  Wit  Restored,  1658,  p.  172;  (Reprint, 

1873, 


374  APPENDIX. 

1873,  p.  294).  Also,  with  music  by  Thomas  Wroth,  in  the 
Pills,  v.  330.  Not  in  the  1647  folio  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher;  and  only  imperfect  in  the  1811  quarto.  Some- 
times printed  "  He  ran  at  me  first  in  the  shape  of  a  Ram." 

Page  no.     The  World's  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  man." 

Attributed  to  JAMES  USHER,  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  who 
died  in  1658.  Dr.  Johnson  quotes  it  (Tour  to  the  Heb- 
rides) as  by  Bacon  ;  and  Dr.  Robert  Carruthers  erron- 
eously annotates  that  the  reference  is  to  the  Rev.  Phanuel 
Bacon  :  who  was  not  born  until  about  1700.  The  poem 
appeared  as  by  "  Bishop  Usher,  late  Lord  Primate  of 
Ireland,"  in  H.  W.'s  "  Miscellanies,"  1708.  See  Notes 
and  Queries,  5th,  S.  in.  pp.  313,  &c.,  1875. 

Page  115.     9Tis  not  the  Silver  nor  Gold  for  itself. 

This  clever  satire  on  the  times  (applicable  to  most  other 
times,  alas  !  )  is  in  the  Rump,  i.  230,  and  Loyal  Songs, 
i.  60. 

Page  1 1 8.     After  so  many  sad  mishaps* 

See  our  note  on  the  other  poem  (p.  100  of  M.  D.  C.)  from 
the  same  ff  Certain  Verses,"  April  30,  1653.  Two  ex- 
amples of  the  same  class  of  burlesque  may  be  named  ; 
one,  by  W.  M.  Thackeray,  on  the  "  Sorrows  of  Werter." 
The  other,  in  the  "  Melbourne  Punch,"  was  entitled 
"  Enoch  Arden  Boiled  Down."  It  follows  Tennyson 
closely  (by  the  way,  he  made  no  acknowledgment  of 
having  borrowed  the  story  from  Adelaide  Anne  Procter's 
earlier-printed  "  Homeward  Bound,"  in  Legends  and 
Lyrics,  p.  34,  edit.  1866;  but  which  had  first  appeared  as 
part  of  Dickens'  Christmas  Story,  "  The  Wreck  of  the 
Golden  Mary,"  1856).  It  ends  thus,  after  seven  stanzas  : 

"  Yet  reflecting  on  the  subject, 

He  determined  to  atone 
For  his  lengthened  absence  from  her 

By  just  leaving  'well  alone. 

Taking 


APPENDIX.  375 

Taking  to  his  bed,  he  dwindled 
Down  to  something  like  a  shade  ; 

Settled  'with  his  good  landlady, 
Next  the  debt  of  nature  paid. 

Then,  'when  both  the  Rays  discovered 

How  poor  Enoch's  life  had  ended, 
They  came  out  in  handsome  style,  and 

fGave  his  corpse  a  funeral  splendid. 
This  is  all  I  knoiv  about  it, 
If  it's  not  sufficient,  write 
By  next  mail  to  Alfred  Tenny- 
Son,  P.L.,  the  Isle  of  Wight." 

The  satirist  hits  the  blot,  in  the  penultimate  verse,  as 
A.  T.  marred  the  grandeur  of  his  hero's  death,  by  un- 
necessarily adding,  for  conclusion  : — 

"  So  past  the  strong  heroic  soul  away. 
And  'when  they  buried  him  the  little  port 
Had  seldom  seen  a  costlier  funeral  ! !  !  " 

What  an  Undertaker's  bathos,  and  from  a  true  poet. 

Page  121.     Come,  let's  purge  our  brains,  &c. 

More  disparagement  of  malt  and  hops,  associated  with 
"  The  Brewer,"  Oliver  Protector.  Also  in  Loyal  Gar- 
land, 1686;  Percy  Soc.  Reprint,  xxix.  53. 

Page  124.      What  though  the  ill  times  do  run  cross,  &c. 

Also  in  Rump,  i.  234 ;  and  Loyal  Songs,  i.  65.  Compare 
"  What  though  the  Times  produce  eft'ects,"  in  1661  edit, 
of  Merry  Drollery,  p.  161.  (Next  volume.) 

Page  125.     Lay  by  your  pleading,  Law  lies  a  bleeding. 

Date  about  1658.  Music  in  Chappell,  Pop.  M.,  p.  431  ; 
and  in  the  Pills,  vi.  191.  Words  in  the  Rump,  i.  333; 
Loyal  Songs,  i.  223;  Wilkins'  Political  Bds.,  i.  86;  and 
Mackay's  Cavalier  Sgs.,  67,  from  the  Loyal  Garland, 
1686.  Additional  Note  in  next  volume. 

Page 


376  APPENDIX. 

Page  127.     I  am  a  bonny  Scot,  Sir,  &c. 

In  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  1661,  p.  59;  J.  P. 
Collier's  Reprint,  p.  73. 

Page  131.     /'//  tell  you  a  story  that  never  -was  told. 

Additional  Note  in  next  volume.  Also  given  in  the 
Rump,  i.  340  ;  Loyal  Sgs.  ii.  2. 

Page  134.     /'//  go  no  more  to  the  Old  Exchange. 

Music  to  this  in  Chappell  P.  M.,  p.  317.  Additional 
Note  in  our  next  volume.  In  "Wit  Restored,"  1658 
(Repr.  pp.  139-45)  are  The  Burse  of  Reformation,  be- 
ginning "  We  will  go  no  more  to  the  Old  Exchange," 
and  an  Answer  to  it,  "We  will  go  no  more  to  the  Neiv 
Exchange."  Compare,  also,  in  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656, 
pp.  no,  60,  "I'll  go  no  more  to  the  Neiv  Exchange," 
and  "  I'll  go  no  more  to  Tunbridge  Wells."  In  the  Pills, 
vi,  145,  we  find  another  song,  with  music,  on  the  "  But- 
toned Smock,"  so  entitled,  beginning  "  Sit  you  merry." 

Page  138.     Let's  call  and  drink  the  Cellar  dry. 

Compare  Roxburghe  Collection,  ii.,  372,  The  Noble  Pro- 
digal. The  six  ayres  are,  "The  Jew's  Corant,"  "Princess 
Royal,"  "  Come  hither  my  own  Sweet  Duck,"  &c. 

Page  140.      There's  a  lusty  liquor  ivhich,  &c. 

With  music,  given  by  Wm.  Chappell,  P.  M.,  308.  His 
remarks  are  as  usual  of  great  value.  The  tune  is  known 
as  "Stingo,  or  Oyl  of  Barley"  (1650),  as  "The  Country 
Lass"  (Martin  Parker's  hearty  ballad),  and  "Cold  and 
Raw"  (D'Urfey's  Song,  1688,  in  the  Pills,  ii.  167). 

Page  143.     Three  merry  Lads  met  at  the  Rose. 

In  "Wit  Restored,"  1656,  p.  162;  Reprint,  294.  Also  in 
"  Antidote  ag.  Melan.,"  33.  The  Rose  Tavern  was  in 
Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden,  and  bore  a  bad  repute. 

In 


APPENDIX.  377 

In  Shadwell's  "  Scourers/'  1691,  we  read,  "  In  those  days 
a  man  could  not  go  from  the  Rose  Tavern  to  the  Piazzi 
once,  but  he  must  venture  his  life  twice  "  (Hist.  Sign- 
boards, p.  125).  Hogarth  shows  a  room  of  the  Rose  in  the 
mpper  orgie  of  Rake's  Progress.  Other  Rose  Taverns, 
lowever,  were  near  Temple  Bar,  and  in  Wood  Street, 


Page  146.     Of  all  the  Recreations  'which,  &c. 

This  was  sung  to  the  tune  "  Amarillis  "  (vide  ante,  p.  8  ; 
but  in  Pills,  iii.  126,  we  meet  these  words  to  the  music  of 
tune  "  My  Father  was  born  before  me").  It  is  in  Vocal 
ompanion,  ii.  242.  "The  Royal  Recreation  of  Jovial 
Anglers"  is  the  title  attached  to  it  in  J.  P.  Collier's  excel- 
ent  4to.,  A  Book  of  Roxburghe  Ballads,  1847,  P-  232  » 
:rom  a  broadsheet  printed  by  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  W.  Gil- 
Dertson,  and  J.  Wright.  He  believed  it  to  be  not  older 
:han  1653.  We  guess  it  to  be  of  ten  years  later  date, 
remembering  Porter's  "  Villain."  Tom  Hudson,  early  in 
:his  Nineteenth  Century,  wrote  an  amusing  song  on  the 
same  theme  (we  have  a  copy  of  it,  beginning  "  We're  all 
ishing  in  Country  and  in  Town"). 

Page  149.     Tom  and  Will  ivere  shepherd  sivains. 

Evidently  alluding  to  some  recent  rivals  ;  town  gossip, 
now  difficult  to  follow,  but  possible,  if  worth  the  labour. 
The  earliest  other  copy  yet  seen  is  of  same  date  (as  our 
second  edition)  1670;  in  Acad.  Compl.,  p.  180.  The 
music  is  given  in  Pills,  iii.  112;  p.  130  of  1699  edition. 
[t  is  in  Old  Ballads,  ii.  179. 

Page  151.     Wake  all  you  dead,   What  ho  !  &c. 

This  is  Viola's  song,  by  SIR  WILLIAM  D'AVENANT,  in 
fiis  "  Law  against  Lovers,"  Act  iii.  Sc.  i.,  1662.  Pater- 
son's  edit,  of  D.  (Dramatists  of  the  Restoration)  has  it  in 
Vol.  v.  p.  152.  The  play,  which  Pepys  records  having 
seen  and  liked,  in  his  Diary,  i8th  February,  1661-2,  is 
composed  from  a  mixture  of  "  Measure  for  Measure"  and 
"  Much  Ado  about  Nothing."  Properly,  the  song  should 
be  divided  into  stanzas,  the  second  beginning  "  The  State 
is,"  &c.  Page 


378  APPENDIX. 

Page  152.     There  is  a  certain  idle  kind  of  creature. 

We  find  this,  signed  "  Philo-balladus"  in  the  Roxburghe 
Collection  of  Bds.,  i.  466;  printed  for  Francis  Grove  [abt 
1620-55],  Snow  Hill ;  to  a  pleasant  new  tune.  15  verses. 

Page  159.      White  Bears  are  lately  come  to  town. 

Also  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  39.      We  have  an  im- 

Eression  that  this  is  by  the  author  of  "  Some  wives  are 
ad/'  &c.,  p.  302. 

Page  162.      We  seamen  are  the  honest  boys. 

Included  by  J.  O.  Halliwell  (Phillips)  in  his  Naval  Bds., 
for  Percy  Soc.,  ii.  36.  We  meet  it  first  in  1656,  Wit  and 
Drollery,  p,  31,  as  "We  Sea-men  are  the  bonny  boys;" 
with  variations  : — up  have  blown  ;  She  fore  the  wind  will 
run  a ;  Gabions  ;  counterwork ;  and  an  additional  verse 
(the  yth)  :— 


The  Bear,  the  Dog,  the  Fox,  the  Kite, 
That  stood  fast  on  the  Rover, 

They  chas'd  the  Turk  in  a  day  and  night, 
From  Scandaroon  to  Dover. 


Page  164.      When  the  chill  Charokoe  blows. 

Not  later  than  1656,  being  in  "Wit  and  Drollery"  of 
that  date,  p.  154.  With  music,  in  "Calliope,"  1788,  p. 
452.  Also  in  Acad.  Compl.,  1670,  p.  241.  Dryden's 
Misc.  Poems,  vi.  358.  Ritson's  Engl.  Sgs.,  ii.  57.  Percy 
Soc.  (Festive  Sgs.),  xxiii.  67.  At  commencement  of  Anti- 
dote ag.  Melancholy,  1661,  is  a  long  "  Ex-Ale-tation  of 
Ale,"  worth  our  quoting  hereafter. 

Page  1 66.      Now  [that]  thanks  to  the  powers  below. 

Date  24th  Oct.,  1648.  Title,  The  Anarchic;  or,  the 
Blessed  Reformation  Since  1640  ;  to  a  rare  new  tune. 
It  is  in  the  Rump,  i.  291 ;  Loyal  Songs,  i.  174;  Wilkins' 
Polit.  Bds.,  i.  32;  Wright's  ditto  (Percy  Soc.,  iii.),  112. 

Page 


APPENDIX.  379 

'age    170.     A   maiden  of  late,  'whose  name  'was  s'weet 
Kate. 


ith  music,  as  "The  Maiden's  Longing,"  in  Pills,  iv. 
2.  Also  in  Windsor  Drollery,  131  ;  and  in  Dryden's 
lisc.  Poems,  iv.  101. 

Page  171.     After  the  pains  of  a  desperate  lover. 

\y  JOHN  DRYDEN;  in  "An  Evening's  Love,"  Act  ii. 
671.  General  reading,  "  pangs."  Music  by  Alphonso 
'larsh,  in  Playford's  Choice  Ayres,  1676,  Bk.  i.  p.  4. 
lusic  also  set  later  by  Galliard,  in  Watts'  Musical  Mis- 
ellany,  i.  100,  1729;  and  in  Merry  Musician,  ii.  87.  It 
in  Windsor  Drollery,  139;  and  in  Hive,  iv.  143,  en- 
tied  "The  Transport." 

Page  178.     Of  all  the  rare  juices,  &c. 

Another  song  by  ALEXANDER  BROME,  died  1665.  In 
668  ed.  of  his  songs,  p.  74. 

Page  1 80.     Heard  you  not  lately  of  a  man, 
\y  HUMFREY  CROUCH.      It  is  in  Roxburghe  Collection, 
264;  and  ii.  362.     (Probable  date,  1635-42) : — 

"  The  Mad  Man's  Morrice ;  'wherein  you  shall  finde 
His  trouble  and  grief ,  and  discontent  of  his  minde  ; 
A  'warning  to  young  men  to  have  a  care, 
Ho'w  they  in  love  intangled are" 

Phis  motto  precedes  in  the  Roxb.  broadsheet,  which  is 
eprinted  for  our  Ballad  Society,  annotated  by  Wm. 
3happell,  in  Roxb.  Bds.,  ii.  153.  It  is  also  in  the  Bag- 
'ord  Coll.,  i.  50,  ii.  117;  the  Euing,  Nos.  201,  202;  and 
he  Ouvry  (formerly  J.  P.  Collier's),  two  copies.  The 
ptanzas  are  printed  as  eight  lines,  this  being  the  second 
[not  in  M.  D.  C.)  :— 

"  Into  a  pond  stark  nak'd  I  ran,  [line  9] 

And  cast  my  c loathes  aivay,  Sir, 
Without  the  help  of  any  man, 

Made  shift  to  run  arway,  Sir. 

Ho'w 


380  APPENDIX. 

Hoiv  I  got  out  I  have  forgot, 

I  do  not  'well  remember  ; 
Or  'whether  it  'was  cold  or  hot, 

In  June,  or  in  December. 

And  this,  Roxb.  Bd.  fourth  verse,  not  in  our's,  but  needec 
to  introduce  the  thought  of  his  Lady,  love  for  whom  ha? 
crazed  him  : 

"  Did  you  not  see  my  Love  of  late,  [line  25] 

Like  Titan  in  her  glory  ? 
Do  you  not  knovu  she  is  my  mate, 

And  I  must  'write  her  story 
With  pen  of  gold  on  silver  leafe  ? 

I  'will  so  much  befriend  her  ; 
For  rwhy,  I  am  of  this  belief, 

None  can  so  'well  commend  her. 

Sa'wyou  not  angels  in  her  eyes,  [var.  of  M.D.C/ 

While  that  she  cwas  a  speaking  ? 
Smelt  you  not  smells  like  paradise, 

Bet'ween  trwo  rubies  breaking  ? 

Is  not  a  dimple  in  her  cheek  ?  [line  41] 

Each  eye  a  star  that's  starting        [var.  of  M.D.C. 
Is  not  all  grace  installed  in  her  ?  p.  181] 

Each  step  all  joys  imparting  ? 
Methinks  I  see  her  in  a  cloud,  [variation] 

With  graces  round  about  her  ; 
To  them  I  cry  and  call  aloud, 

I  cannot  live  'without  her." 

These  broadside  ballads,  when  not  originally  long  enough  • 
to  give  sufficient  for  the  two-pence,  or  to  satisfy  the  milk- 
maids and  apprentices,  who  loved  them,  with  enough 
"  piling  up  of  the  agony,"  were  frequently  lengthened 
out.  But  Humfrey  Crouch,  being  a  genuine  balladist, 
probably  grew  his  own  redundancies.  The  3  vols.  for 
Novels  are  still  orthodox  :  a  second  part  to  Street  Ballads 
was  a  sine  qua  non  in  the  zyth  century.  We  shall  give 
it  in  the  companion  volume  (along  with  "  CHOICE  DROL- 
LERY.") 

Our   ninth   half- verse   does  not  appear  at  all    in  thet 

"Crouch" 


APPENDIX.  381 

Crouch"  broadsheet.  The  others  are  varied  and 
ransposed,  from  what  was,  probably,  the  original ;  viz., 
he  Roxburghe  Ballad.  It  was  worth  comparing,  as  being 
p  elaborate  specimen  of  those  Mad  Songs  in  which  our 
ation  especially  delighted  of  old.  See  Notes  on  pp.  234 
pd  290. 

I  Page  187.     No  man  Love' *s  fiery  passions  can  approve. 

\\  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  70;  "Academy  of  Comple- 
ments," 1670,  p.  185.  An  Answer  to  it,  in  Oxford  Drollery, 
|67i,  p.  114,  begins:— 

Some  men  Love's  fiery  passions  can  resist, 
That  either  values  pleasure  or  promotion  : 

I  hate  Luke-ivarmness  in  an  Amorist, 
It  is  as  bad  in  Love  as  in  devotion. 

Seven  verses  follow  this. 


Page  190.     Come  Drawer,  come  fill  us,  &c. 

third  song  by  ALEXANDER  BROME  ;  written  in  1648. 
n  the  1688  edition  of  his  Songs,  p.  73.  Rump,  i.  270. 
,oyal  Sgs.,  i.  164.  Properly,  "  Come,  Drawer,  and 
11,"  &c. 

Page  191.     Lay  by  your  pleading,  Love  lies  a  bleeding. 

Ve  have  hitherto  met  this  excellent  song  nowhere  but 
ere.  Wm.  Chappell  gives  only  a  few  disconnected 
craps  of  the  verses,  along  with  the  music,  in  Popular  M. 
f  the  Olden  Time,  p.  431.  Compare  previous  note  on  p. 
25  (App.,  375). 

Page  196.     Bring  forth  your  Cunny -Skins,  &c. 

-Jare-skin  and  rabbit-skin  collectors  have  always  been 
[ueer  characters.  This  Catch  is  by  JOHN  FLETCHER, 
n  his  "  Beggar's  Bush,"  Act  iii.  sc.  i ;  where  it  is  sung 
>y  Clause  his  boy.  Clause  the  vagabond  beggar  was  a 
•opular  favourite,  reproduced  in  Drolls.  We  see  him 
•epresented  in  the  frontispiece  of  "The  Wits"  by  Kirkman 

and 


382  APPENDIX. 


and  Cox ;   now  given  to  our  readers.     The  Song  is  in  -i 
Windsor  Drollery,  abt.  p.  88;    Acad.   Compl.   1670,  p. 
173;  and,  'with  the  Music,  in  Pills,  v.  303. 

Page  197.     From  hunger  and  cold,  &c. 

By  RICHARD  BROME,  in  his  "Jovial  Crew,"  Act  i.  1641 
Music  to  this  Song  of  the  Jovial  Beggars  in  Playford's 
Select  Ayres,  1659,  p.  64.     The  play  has  always  been, 
deservedly,  a  favourite.     When  it  was  revived,  in  1731. 
with  many  additional  songs  to  popular  tunes,  converted  ; 
into  a  Ballad  Opera  by  Roome  and  Sir  William  Young 
almost  every  song  found  its  way  to  Collections,  and  kepi 
a  place  in  them.     The  present  editor  possesses  severa 
editions,  some  being  in  manuscript  with  the  music,  show- 
ing how  songs  were  introduced,  almost  ad  libitum.     Tom ; 
Moore's  "  Evelyn's  Bower"  makes  its  appearance  for  one. 
Richard  Brome  deserves  esteem.     There  was  something 
boastful,  more  suo,  in  Ben  Jonson's  addressing  him,  "  I  i 
had  you  for  a  servant  once,  Dick  Brome,"  &c.>  but  the  j 
two  men  understood  and  liked  each  other. 

Page  197.    Room  for  a  Gamester,  'who  plays,  &c. 

Also  in  the  Rump,  i.  252;  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  142;  Loyal 
Garland  (1686).  Mackay's  Cavalier  Sgs.,  278. 

Page  199.     Gather  your  Rosebuds  'while  you  may. 

By  ROBERT  HERRICK,  in  his  Hesperides,  164.  Also  in 
Wit's  Recreations,  Reprint,  p.  474,  'with  Music,  by  Wm. 
Lawes  in  Playford's  Select  Ayres,  1659,  p.  101.  Our 
text  is  wofully  corrupt ;  but  is  a  little  set  to  rights  in  the 
margin  by  bracketted  corrections.  Date,  before  1645. 

Page  200.     A  Story  strange  I  'will you  tell. 

Of  a  date  at  least  as  early  as  1656,  see  "  Choice  Drollery,"  ' 
p.  31.     Sometimes  printed  "  A  pretty  jest  I  will,"  &c.,  as  . 
in  Roxb.  Coll.,  ii.  192;  iii.  330;  Bagford  ditto,  i.  55;    ii. 
128.     Also,  as  "  Now  listen  a  while,  and  I  will  you  tell,"  ' 
&c.  :  in  Wit  &  Mirth,  1684,  p.  40.     The  humour  is  ex- 
tremely 


APPENDIX.  383 

.remely  coarse,  but  evidently  found  acceptance  among  a 
nultitude,  for  it  was  frequently  reproduced.  In  old 
)roadsheets  (especially  one  of  the  Bagford  copies)  the 
•ude  woodcut  almost  out-Herods  Herod  in  offensiveness, 
he  style  of  engraving  being  moreover  extremely  primi- 
.ive  and  Catnachish. 


Page  204.     /  am  a  Rogue,  and  a  Stout  One. 

The  music  to  this  is  one  of  the  favourite  Tom  o'  Bedlam 
Ames,  and  is  found  in  John  Gamble's  MS.,  as  we  learn 
rom  Chappell,  P.  M.,  pp.  332,  779.  We  know  no  other 
nt  of  this  vigorous  song,  exposing  the  cheats  of  mendi- 
;ants,  except  one  with  variations  in  Wit  and  Drollery, 
1682,  p  74.  It  is  entitled  The  Blind  Beggar."  By  it  we 
:orrect  our  text: — Bousing  Ken;  Gentry  folk  (v.  4.); 
Dog  in  a  string  [but  our  <f  Peg  "  may  be  correct]  ;  and 
bur  additional  verses, — viz.  2,  5,  10,  14,  of  which  we 
ippend  the  two  of  any  value  : — 

If  a  Bung  be  got  by  the  High-way,      [verse  2] 
Then  str eight  I  do  attend  them, 
For  if  Hue  and  Cry 
Do  follow,  I 

A  'wrong  'way  soon  do  send  them, 
Still  do  I  cry,  &c. 

I  pay  for  'what  I  call  for,  [verse  5] 

And  so  perforce  it  must  be, 
For  yet  I  can 
Not  kno'w  the  Man, 
Or  Hostess  that  ivill  trust  me. 
Still  do  I  cry,  ®c. 

Page  207.     Stay,  [stay~\,  Shut  the  Gate  ! 

A  fourth  song  by  ALEXANDER  BROME,  written  before 
1658.  With  the  music,  in  Pills,  v.  85.  In  Loyal  Gar- 
and  (1686,  1 3th  edit.)  is  an  additional  verse,  as  fifth. 
Among  A.  Brome's  "  Songs  and  other  Poems,"  3rd  edit. 
1668,  p.  55;  with  an  additional  verse,  by  "M.  C.  Esquire." 

5- 


384  APPENDIX. 

5- 

Call,  call,  honest  Will, 
Hang  a  long  and  tedious  bill, 

It  disgraces  ; 
When  our  Rubies  appear, 
We  justly  may  swear, 
That  the  reckoning  is  true  by  our  faces. 
Let  the  Bar-boy  go  sleep,  and  the  drawers  lea'ue  roaring, 
Our  looks  ivill  account  without  them,  had  <we  more  in, 
When  each  pimple  that  rises  'will  sa'ue  a  quart  scoring. 

This  is  answered,  by  T.  J.,  in  the  next  page  of  A.  Brome's 
Songs,  as  it  is  in  "  Merry  Drollery,"  though  divided,  in 
M.  D.  C.,  1691,  by  it  commencing  the  Second  Part. 


MERRY  DROLLERY,  COMPLETE. 
PART  SECOND. 

Page  210.     Hold,  [hold,']  quaff  no  more  ! 

This  "  Mock  Song/'  or  Answer,  from  the  more  sober  and 
thoughtful  kind  of  Cavalier,  to  those  who  by  debauchery 
ruined  themselves  and  the  cause  they  were  supposed  to 
love,  bears  the  initials  "T.  J."  as  author,  in  A.  Brome's 
volume  of  Songs,  p.  57.  Perhaps  it  may  be  by  THOMAS 
JORDAN,  a  staunch  Royallist  versifier,  although  it  seems 
higher  and  nobler  in  tone  than  his  acknowledged  pro- 
ductions. Also  in  Mackay's  Cavalier  Sgs.,  114. 

Page  2ii,     Had  she  not  care  enough,  &c. 

With  the  music,  this  is  given  in  Walsh's  Catch  Club  (no 
date,  but  about  1704),  ii.  43,  No.  69,  as  "On  a  Widow 
who  Married  an  Old  Man."  An  Answer  to  it  appears 
in  Oxford  Drollery,  Pt.  1st,  p.  66,  by  Capt.  Willm.  Hicks, 
1671, 

Was  he  not  kind  enough,  kind  enough,  kind  enough, 
Was  he  not  kind  enough  to  his  young  Bride  ? 
From  her  Childhood  he  bred  her,  then  he  fed  her, 
And  he  led  her,  to  the  Church  'where  he  <wed  her, 

Then  lay  by  her  side :  But 


APPENDIX.  385 

But  Oh  ho*w  he  push't  her,  and  crush V  her, 
And  thrust  her,  and  like  to  a  burst  her 

With  long  lying  on. 
And  Oh  hoiv  she  panted,  and  ranted, 
Being  scanted,  of  the  thing  that  she  tuanted 

All  the  night  long  ! 

See  Later,  p.  396 ;  and  Westminster  Drollery  Appendix, 
for  Note  on  CaptainWilliam  Hicks,  p.  76. 

Page  212.     Here's  a  Health  unto  his  Majesty. 

Music,  by  Jeremiah  Saville  in  Playford's  Musical  Com- 
panion, 1667,  given  by  Chappell,  Pop.  M.,  492.  Words 
in  Mackay's  Cav.  Sgs,,  251. 

Page  212.     But  since  it  'was  lately  enacted  High  Treason. 

A  fifth  song  by  ALEXANDER  BROME,  and  full  of  character; 
written  in  1646.  Among  his  Sgs.,  1668,  p.  63.  Loyal 
Garland,  Percy  Soc.  Reprint,  xxix.  25.  Mackay,  Cav. 
Sgs.,  283. 

Page  214.     Cook  Laurel  'would  needs  ha've  the  di'vel,  &c. 

By  BEN  JONSON,  in  his  Masque,  "The  Gipsies  Meta- 
morphosed," acted  in  August,  1621.  It  is  in  the  Percy 
Folio  MS.,  iv.  40;  in  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  9; 
in  Dryden's  Misc.  Poems,  ii.  142,  and,  with  the  music,  in 
Pills,  iv,  101.  There  can  be  no  question  as  to  whose 
favour  Ben  Jonson  wished  to  propitiate  by  this  delectable 
ditty  (coarse,  but  of  sustained  humour  and  rollicking  fun). 
It  was  suited  to  the  taste  of  James  I.,  whom  Ben  could 
please  far  better  than  "  our  gentle  Willy" — who  indeed 
died  more  than  five  years  before.  Charles  I.  appreciated 
him  better,  as  we  know.  Even  the  final  verse  gives  evi- 
dence that  to  James  was  this  "  Banquet  in  the  Peak " 
directed ;  as  the  royal  author  of  the  "  Counterblast 
against  Tobacco "  (reprinted  in  Dec.,  1869,  by  Edward 
Arber,  to  whom  we  all  owe  so  much  gratitude)  gives,  as 
fitting  diet  for  his  Satanic  Majesty,  a  poll  of  ling,  a  side 
(flitch)  of  bacon,  and  a  pipe  of  tobacco  for  digestion.  And 

"the 
B  B 


386  APPENDIX. 

"the  Scottish  Solomon"  was  not  far  wrong  in  his  appor- 
tionment; for,  prejudice  apart,  when  we  see  the  ever- 
growing evils  of  inordinate  smoking,  what  a  curse  it  is, 
drying  the  juices,  gradually  paralysing  the  intellect,  and 
making  its  slaves  selfishly  indifferent  to  the  discomforts  of 
all  who  are  forced  to  be  in  contact  with  them,  we  are  not 
indisposed  to  agree  with  Ben  Jonson  and  his  Royal 
patron.  Shakespeare  (almost  alone,  of  all  the  Elizabethan 
writers)  avoids  mention  of  tobacco.  It  cannot  possibly  be 
by  accident.  And  if  he  had  loved  the  weed  "  not  wisely, 
but  too  well,"  we  may  be  sure  he  would  have  indicated  it, 
as  he  has  done  almost  every  other  imaginable  thing.  Was 
it  that  he  disliked  and  wondered  at  the  infatuation  ;  but,  in 
his  fine  tolerance  of  human  weakness,  and  genial  sym- 
pathy with  all  "  humours,"  he  yet  abstained  from  uttering 
a  word  of  scorn  ?  We  may  never  know.  In  the  Genuine 
Works  of  Charles  Cotton,  6th  edit.,  1771,  illustrating  his 
poem  of  "  The  Wonders  of  the  Peake,"  in  Derbyshire,  is 
a  copper-plate  representing  the  remarkable  cavern  bearing 
the  vulgar  title  "  The  Devil's  Arse,  near  Castleton."  The 
versical  description  is  precise,  but  almost  interminable. 
There  are  many  variations  in  the  printed  copies  of  Ben 
Jonson's  Cook  Laurel. 

Page  218.     Let  souldiers  fight  for  praise  and  pay. 

In  Antidote  ag.  Melancholy,  39.    With  music,  by  Henry 
Lawes,  1653,  in  his  Ay  res,  Book  i.  Part  2,  p.  9,  where  the 
author  is  stated  to  be  MR.  TOWNSHEND.     In  Pills,  v.  145, 
with  music,  it  is  printed  "By  Ben  Jonson."     In  Old  Bal- 
lads, iii.  164.     Vocal  Companion,  ii.  159.     Ritson's  Engl. 
Sgs.,  ii.  42.     Tea  Table  Misc.,  iii.  250,  &c.     The  true 
commencement  (as  in  Lawes'  copy)  is  : — 
{<  Bacchus,  Iacchus,fill  our  brains, 
As  'well  as  boivls,  ivith  sprightly  strains, 
Let  Souldiers  fight  for  pay  or  praise,  &c." 
Given  thus,  as  "  A   Bacchanal "  in   Wit's    Interpreter, 
1655,  116.     Also  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  100. 

Page  220.  Calm  was  the  evening,  and  clear ivas  the  sky. 
By  JOHN  DRYDEN,  in  "  An  Evening's  Love,"  Act  iv.  Sc. 


APPENDIX.  387 


i.,  1671.  Music  by  Alphonso  Marsh,  in  Playford's 
"Choice  Ayres,"  1786,  i.  8.  Also  in  Pills,  iii.  161.  In 
Bagford  Collection,  ii.  147,  printed  for  W.  Thackeray, 
T.  Passenger,  and  W.  Whitwood ;  where  it  is  entitled 
"  Amintas  and  Claudia ;  or,  the  Merry  Shepherdess." 
With  the  carelessness  habitual  in  old  collections  of  songs, 
we  find  this  one  repeated  on  page  292. 

Page  221.     There9 s  many  a  [clinching],  &c. 

Written  in  1657.  With  music,  in  Pills,  iii.  24;  but 
earlier,  in  1661,  in  Antidote  ag.  Melancholy,  62  ;  in  the 
Rump,  i.  336;  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  227;  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684, 
p.  25 ;  and  Percy  Soc.  (Political  Ballads)  i.  130.  Of 
course  the  allusions  in  the  ballad  are  to  Oliver  Cromwell. 
See  Introduction,  p.\  xv.  But  compare  page  252  for  a 
later  and  more  severe  characterization. 

Page  225.     Of  all  the  Trades  that  ever  I  see. 

Most  probably  by  DR.  JAMES  SMITH,  the  friend  of  Sir 
John  Mennis,  or  Menzies,  and  his  fellow-labourer  in 
Musarum  Delicice,  1656;  and  also  (it  is  thought)  in  "Wit 
Restored,"  1658,  where  extra  verses  are  found  of  the 
Blacksmith  Song.  It  is  there  given  "  As  it  <was  sung 
before  Ulysses  and  Penelope  at  their  feast,  'when  he  re- 
turned from  their  Trojan  Warrs,  collected  out  of  Homer, 
Virgill,  and  Ovid,  by  some  of  the  Modern  Familie  of  the 
Fancies."  (Wit  Restored,  reprint,  p.  278.)  It  follows, 
and  is  avowedly  introduced  by  Dr.  James  Smith's  "  Inno- 
vation of  Ulysses  and  Penelope."  London,  October, 
1658.  Smith  died  in  June,  1667. 

"  f  Sing  me  some  Song  made  in  the  Iron  Age.9 
f  The  Iron  Age  ?9  quoth  he  that  used  to  sing, 
6  This  to  my  mind  the  Black-Smith' 's  Song  doth  bring.9 
'  The  El  ack- Smith9  s  ?9  quoth  Ulysses,  and  there  holloiveth, 
'  Whoope  !    is  there  such  a  Song  ?      Let's  ha9t9     Itfol- 
lo*weth99  &c. 

Chief  various  (and  earlier)  readings  : — 3rd  verse,  1st  line, 
Thunderingly  we  lay  ;  did  devise  ;  Mulciber  to  do  her  all 

right ; 


388  APPENDIX. 

right;  Which  afterwards  he  Hammersmith  ;  our  verses  6 
and  7  transposed  from  7  and  6,  &c. ;  v.  8  refers  to  the  no- 
torious Turnemill  Street,  in  a  line  "It  stood  'very  near  to 
Venus  Court)  ;"  [Wit  Rest.,  verse  I7th.] 

<(  Another  proverb  does  seldome  fayle, 
When  you  meet  'with  naughty  beere  or  ale, 
You  cry  it  is  as  dead  as  a  dore  nayle.         Which,  &c. 

If  you  stick  to  one  'when  fortune 's  ivheele         [verse  1 8] 

Doth  make  him  many  losses  feele, 

We  say  suck  a  friend  is  as  true  as  steele.        Which,  &c. 

There  is  a  laive  in  merry  England  [verse  21] 

In  ivhich  the  Smith  has  some  command, 

When  any  one  is  burnt  in  the  hand  ;  Which,  &c. 

Eanbury  ale  a  halfe-yard-pott,  [verse  22] 

The  Devil  I  a  Tinker  dares  stand  to' t ; 

If  once  the  tost  be  hizzing  hott.         Which,  &c. 

Other  additional  verses  follow,  concerning  the  Sullen  wo- 
man, the  snuffling  Puritans,  St.  Dunstan,  the  Black- 
smith's Vice,  Haeresies,  Sergeants*  at  Law,  a  Com- 
mander's look,  Soldiers,  Lawes,  and  these  (before  our  final 
verse,  with  which  compare)  : — 

Though  Ulysses  himself e  has  gon\e\  many  miles  [v.  37] 

And  in  the  ivarre  has  all  the  craft  and  the  'wiles, 

Yet  your  Smith  can  sooner  double  hisfles.      Which,  &c. 

Sayst  thou  so,  quoth  Ulysses,  and  then  he  did  call      [38] 

For  ivine  to  drinke  to  the  Black-Smiths  all, 

And  he  vovued  it  should  go  round  as  a  Ball,  Which,  &c. 

And  cause  he  had  such  pleasure  ta'ne,  [39] 

At  this  honest  jidlers  merry  strainc, 

He  gave  him  the  Horse-Shoe  in  Drury-lane,  Which,  &c. 

Where  his  posterity  ever  since  [40] 

Are  ready  vuith  ivine,  both  Spanish  and  French, 

For  those  that  can  bring  in  another  Clench  [,•]  Which,  &c. 

The  song  being  don[e,~\  they  drank  the  health,  they  rose. 
They  ivo'd  in  verse,  and  ivent  to  bed  in  prose. 

Our 


APPENDIX.  389 

Our  text  agrees  virtually  with  Antidote  ag.  Melancholy, 
i66i,p.  II.  With  the  music  it  is  in  Pills,  iii.  20;  the  tune 
being  a  modification  of  "  Green  Sleeves"  (given,  both 
arrangements,  in  Chappell,  P.  M.,  pp.  233,  230).  In  Wit 
and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  6;  the  earliest  book-copy  we  know. 
In  Roxb,  Coll.  i.  250;  Pepys,  iv.  264;  Rawlinson,  191. 
Ballad  Soc.  Roxb.  Bds.  ii.  127.  The  popularity  of  the 
song  is  incontestable. 

Page  230.     Come,  my  dainty  Doxies. 

By  THOMAS  MIDDLETON,  in  his  "  More  Dissemblers  be- 
side Women,"  Act  iv.  Sc.  i.  Dyce's  Middleton,  iii.  606, 
Earlier  than  1623,  in  which  year  Sir  Henry  Herbert  en- 
ters the  comedy  as  an  "old  play."  But  it  was  not 
printed,  we  are  told,  until  1657.  It  appears,  however, 
probably  before  that  date  in  the  Percy  Folio  MS.,  iii.  313, 
where,  as  usual,  there  is  no  guide  given  to  the  authorship. 
We  have  found  many  of  the  manuscript  songs  elsewhere, 
apparently  not  known  to  the  editors  as  being  in  print. 
They  explain  "  Doxy  "  as  a  mistress,  and  "dill "  as  much 
the  same  as  darling,;  which  "  darle"  certainly  seems  to 
be.  R.  Bell  gives  "dell"  as  a  cant  term  for  "an  unde- 
filed  girl."  Among  variations  we  note  the  line  "Our 
store  now  taken"  reads  in  Middleton  and  P.  Fol.  "  Our 
store  is  never  taken."  Instead  of  "  Some  come  to  dis- 
burses," they  read,  "  If  one  have  money  he  disburses, 
While  some  tell  fortunes,  some  pick  purses,"  &c.  "  He 
that's  a  gipsy,  May  be  drunk  or  tipsy,  At  any  hour  he1 
please;  roar,  we  scuffle  ;  vie  filch,  we  shuffle. 

Page  231.     Come,  Imp  Royal,  come  aivay. 

In  the  Rump,  i.  339  ;  and  "  Loyal  Songs,"  commencing 
the  second  volume.  For  "  Come,  my  Daphne  !  "  See 
M.  D.  C.,  p.  91,  and  Note. 

Page  232.     The  Wise  Men  'were  but  seven. 

Also  in  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  1 66 1,  p.  69  ;  J.  P. 
C.  Reprint,  85.  In  Universal  Songster,  iii.  95.  Compare 
the  Droll  on  former  page,  113,  final  verse.  The  Nine 

Worthies 


390  APPENDIX. 

Worthies  were  Joshua,  David,  Judas  Maccabseus;  Hector, 
Alexander,  Julius  Caesar;  King  Arthur,  Charlemagne, 
and  Godfrey  of  Bulloigne.  Sometimes  Hercules  and 
Pompey  were  substituted ;  as  in  Love's  Lab.  Lost,  Act  v. 
The  Muses  were  Clio,  Euterpe,  Thalia,  Melpomene, 
Terpsichore,  Erato,  Polyhymnia,  Urania,  and  Calliope. 
The  Seven  Wise  Men  were  Solon,  Chilo,  Pittacus, 
Bias,  Periander  (or  Epimenides),  Cleobulus,  and  Thales. 
The  Three  Fatal  Sisters,  or  Parcse,  were  Clotho,  Lachesis, 
and  Atropos. 

Page  232.     Hoiv  poor  is  his  spirit,  &c. 
In  the  Rump,  i.  326,  and  Loyal  Songs,  1731,  i.  214. 

Page  234.     Am  I  mad,  O  noble  Festus. 

This  memorable  Mad-Song  and  burlesque  is  by  DR. 
RICHARD  CORBET,  successively  Bishop  of  Oxford  and  of 
Norwich.  (Concerning  him  see  Appendix  to  Westminster 
Drollery,  pp.  xxxv.  xxxvi.  By  the  way,  we  have  again 
read  "  The  Times  Whistle,"  in  E.  T.  Soc.,  and  feel  dis- 
inclined to  believe  that  worthy  Bishop  Corbet  wrote  it.) 
This  is  sometimes  entitled  "  A  Song  of  the  Hot-headed 
Zealot,  otherwise  the  Distracted  Puritan."  It  is  in  the 
Percy  Folio  MS.,  iii,  269;  in  Prince  d' Amour,  171; 
Antidote  against  Melancholy,  35;  Rump,  1.237;  Cor- 
bet's Poems,  3rd  edit.,  1672,  p.  106;  Loyal  Songs,  i.  69; 
Percy's  Reliques.  ii.  B.  3,  No.  18,  and  elsewhere.  Corbet 
has  no  malice  in  his  caricature  of  the  Puritan.  "  Pure 
Emanuel "  refers  to  Emanuel  College,  at  Cambridge, 
founded  in  1584  by  Sir  Walter  Mildmay,  a  patron  of  the 
Puritans,  designing  it  "  as  a  nursery  for  that  party.  He 
did  little  more  than  lay  the  foundation  ;  saying  therefore 
of  it,  that  he  had  set  an  acorn,  which,  he  hoped,  in  time 
might  become  an  oak."  What  sort  of  a  triple-tree  it 
became  we  pretty  well  know;  small  thanks  to  him.  Else- 
where we  read  who  it  was  that  sowed  tares  in  the  field, 
and  without  disguise  that  an  Enemy  had  done  it.  Never- 
theless, some  eminent  men  came  from  Emanuel's.  Among 
ihem,  Dr.  Joseph  Hall,  whose  Satires  are  quite  as  coarse 

-    as 


APPENDIX.  391 

as  anything  in  the  Drolleries  (the  book  was  interdicted 
and  ordered  to  be  burnt;  "but  that's  not  much,"  as 
Othello  says).  Verse  3,  Foxes  Martyrs  :  the  first  edition 
of  John  Fox's  "  History  of  the  Acts  and  Monuments  of 
the  Church  "  appeared  in  a  folio  volume,  1553.  Verse  9 
refers  to  some  exposition  of  Zechariah,  v.  I,  Bp.  Percy 
thinks  to  Coppe's  "  The  fiery  flying  Roll,"  &c.  He  also 
mentions  Greenham's  Works,  folio,  1605,  one  tract  being 
"  A  sweet  comfort  for  an  afflicted  conscience."  And  as 
to  verse  10,  he  guides  us  to  Perkins's  Works,  fol.,  1616,  i. 
1 1  ;  where  is  a  large  half-sheet  folded,  containing  "  A 
Survey,  or  table  declaring  the  order  of  the  causes  of  sal- 
vation and  damnation,  &c.,"  the  pedigree  of  damnation 
being  distinguished  by  a  broad  zig-zag  line.  Verse  1 1 
alludes  to  a  not  defunct  error  that  study  of  Hebrew  en- 
courages heresy.  Some  folks  become  heretics  without 
studying  any  ancient  language,  or  even  understanding 
their  own.  Verse  12  refers  to  Laud;  his  predecessor, 
Archbishop  Abbott,  having  favoured  the  Puritans.  Laud's 
primacy  began  in  1633,  and  since  Corbet  died  in  1635, 
we  fix  the  date  of  the  ballad  to  1633-5,  which  is  tolerably 
close.  Probably  1633. 

Page  237.     /  doat,  I  doat,  but  am  a  sot  to  shoiv  it. 

Probably  by  the  gallant  Cavalier  WILLIAM  CAVENDISH, 
first  Duke  of  Newcastle  (see  Introduction,  p.  xxix). 
Certainly  two  scraps  of  the  song  are  sung  by  Sir  John  in 
his  "  Triumphant  Widow,"  Act  iii.,  which  we  believe  to 
have  been  written  before  1660.  Other  songs,  known  to 
be  his,  are  of  similar  gaiety.  There  are  good  things  found 
in  my  Lady  Duchess's  ponderous  folios. 

Page  240.     Ladies,  I  do  here  present  you. 
In  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  103,  is  a  similar  song : — 

Ladies,  here  I  do  present  you 
With  a  dainty  dish  of  fruit ;  &c. 

Page  242.     Go  you  tame  Gallants. 
In  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  1661,  p.  44,  where  it 


392  APPENDIX. 

is  stated  to  be  "by  T.  R.,"  but  in  the  Pills,  iii.  329(1719) 
is  given  as  "by  Dr.  R.  W."  It  also  appears  in  the  1684 
edition  of  Wit  and  Mirth,  p.  62.  The  initials  probably 
refer  to  Thomas  Randolph  (often  printed  Randall),  who 
died  in  1635);  and  to  DR.  ROBERT  WILDE,  whose  Iter 
Boreale,  celebrating  General  Monk's  progress,  attained 
popularity  in  1660.  We  believe  this  powerful  "Combat 
of  Cocks"  to  be  by  him.  It  is  also  in  Wit  and  Drollery, 
1656,  p.  70,  as  by  "T.  R." 

Page  249.      What  is  that  you  call  a  Maidenhead? 
Also  in  "Wit's  Interpreter,"  255,  1655,  and  (p.  280)  1671. 

Page  250.      When  Phcebus  had  drest  his  course,  &c. 

This  is  a  corruption  of  "When  Phoebus  addrest  his 
course,"  &c.  It  is  in  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  35  ;  and 
in  the  Percy  folio  MS.,  vol.  iv.  p.  7  (imperfect  version,  de- 
ficient verses  iv.  and  v).  Mr.  Wm.  Chappell  notes  that 
the  tune  "  O  doe  not,  doe  not  kill  me  yet"  (given  in  Pop. 
Music,  p.  194)  is  printed  under  the  title  of  the  burden, 
in  J.  J.  Starter's  "  Boertigheden,"  Amsterdam,  4to, 
1634,  with  a  Dutch  song,  written  to  the  tune.  So  "When 
Phcebus,"  &c.,  is  certainly  as  early  as  1634,  or  before  it. 
Tune  afterwards  known  as  "  Drive  the  cold  winter  away." 
Other  reading,  2nd  verse : — did  appear  a  shoiv. 

Page  252.     A  Breiver  may  be  a  Burgess  grave. 

Written  in  1657;  this  is  one  of  the  many  references  to 
Oliver  Cromwell  as  having  been  a  brewer.  If  nothing 
worse  could  be  charged  against  him,  he  could  afford  to 
smile,  although  the  connection  between  malt  and  a  "  cop- 
per nose  "  might  seem  pressed  home  ungenerously.  It  is 
said  that  the  other  "Brewer"  song  (p.  221)  was  not 
considered  severe  enough;  therefore,  the  present  ditty 
was  framed.  It  occurs  in  the  Rump,  i.  33  ;  Loyal  Songs, 
i.  221.  Wilkins  mutilates  it,  in  his  Political  Bds.,  i.  132, 
and  such  castrated  scraps  are  worthless. 

Page 


APPENDIX.  393 

Page  254.     Oliver,  Oliver,  take  up  thy  Croivn. 

[n  the  Rump,  i.  335  ;  Loyal  Songs,  i.  225.  See  Additional 
Note  in  ensuing  volume  of  the  Drolleries. 

Page  255.      When  I  do  travel  in  the  night. 

This  first  meets  us  as  Pride's  Song,  beginning  "  As  I 
was  walking  in  the  night,"  &c.,  in  the  play  of  "  Crom- 
well's Conspiracy,"  Act  iii.  Sc.  5,  where  is  an  extra  verse, 
the  twelfth  : — 

I  prithee  Siveet- heart  do  thou  be  civil, 
Ore  Pie  take  a  course  to  cure  this  evil, 
By  beating  out  of  the  scolding  Devil. 

And  I  like  my  Humour  ivell,  ivell,  &c. 

The  play  is  anonymous,  "  By  a  person  of  Quality,"  and 
iated  Aug.  8,  1660.  Compare  the  abbreviated  version 
n  Westminster  Drollery,  i.  108,  "  As  we  went  wandering 
ill  the  night,"  &c. 

Page  257.     Sir  Eglamore,  that  valiant  knight. 

Like  the  still-later  burlesque,  "  More  of  More  Hall  and 
the  Dragon,"  (beginning  "  Old  stories  tell  how  Hercules," 
&c.,  Pepy's  Coll.,  and  Pills,  iii.  10.,  on  which  "  honest 
Harry"  Carey  founded  his  operetta  "  The  Dragon  of 
Wantley,"  1738  ;)  this  grotesque  account  of  a  knight 
errant  was  long  popular.  We  meet  it  in  the  1656  edition 
of  Wit  and  Drollery,  p.  128.  Again,  in  Antidote  against 
Melancholy,  25 ;  Dryden's  Misc.  Poems,  iv.  104  ;  Evan's 
Bds.  i.  365  ;  as  a  broadsheet,  in  Roxb.  Coll.,  ii.  81,  1672  ; 
^n  Bagford  Coll.,  ii.  18.  With  music,  it  is  given  in 
Playford's  Musical  Companion,  1687,  Pt.  ii. ;  in  the  Pills, 
ii.  293  (where  the  dragon  is  a  dragoness)  :  Bu^by,  Hist. 
Music,  ii.  203,  and  Chappell,  P.  M.,  276,  also  give  the 
music.  The  earliest  appearance  of  it  known  to  us  is  in 
SAMUEL  ROWLAND'S  "Melancholie  Knight,"  p.  27,  1615. 
Political  parodies  were  written  on  it,  one  concerning  Gen. 
Monk,  Rump,  i.  371,  &c.  Another  in  Percy  Soc.,  ii.  205. 

Page 


394  APPENDIX. 

Page  259.      If  none  be  offended  'with  the  scent. 

In  the  Rump,  ii.  I ;  Loyal  Songs,  ii.  37  ;  Loyal  Garland, 
1686;  Percy  Soc.  Reprint,  xxix.  80.  Tune,  the  Black- 
smith. Variations  in  versions. 


Page  263.     Come,  Drarwer,  and  Jill  us  about  some  ivine. 

Another  by  ALEXANDER  BROME.  Written  in  1648. 
Title,  -'The  Independents  Resolve."  It  has  already  ap- 
peared, on  p.  190;  see  Note  thereon. 

Page  264.     //  chanced  not  long  ago,  as  I  ivas  'walking. 

In  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  34;  Loyal  Garland,  1686, 
sg.  78  (omitted  from  Percy  Soc.  Reprint).  In  Roxb. 
Collect,  of  broadside  Bds.  ii.  20,  printed  by  F.  Coles,  &c. 

Page  266.      You  talk  of  Nerw  England ;  I  truly  believe. 

Music  in  the  Pills,  iii.  19.  In  Wit  and  Drollery,  1661 
edition,  p.  81,  it  reads  "  You  talk  of  Old  England,  but  I 
do  believe."  In  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  35,  and  in 
Dr.  Rimbault's  Little  Book  of  Sgs.,  183. 

Page  270.     Pray  'why  should  any  man  complain  ? 

By  ALEXANDER  BROME,  his  seventh  here.  Among  his 
Sgs.,  1668,  p.  10.  Also,  as  "  On  Sir  G.  B his  de- 
feat," in  the  4to.  Collection  of  Diverting  Songs,  p.  401. 

Page  275.     My  Masters,  give  audience. 

Not  yet  found  elsewhere  (as,  indeed,  also  the  others  left 
specially  unannotated).  Compare  Introduction,  p.  viii., 
and  the  following  ballad  (date  before  Nov.,  1643)  : — 

Ne*w  England  is  preparing  a -pace, 

To  entertain  King  Pym,  'with  his  grace, 

And  Isaac  before  shall  carry  the  mace  : 

For  Roundheads  Old  Nick  stand  up  now  ! 

No 


APPENDIX.  395 

No  Surplice,  nor  no  Organs  there, 
Shall  ever  offend  the  eye  or  the  ear  ; 
But  a  spiritual  preach,  'with  a  three  hours  pray'i  ; 
For  Roundheads,  £c. 

All  things  in  zeal  shall  there  be  carried, 
Without  any  porredge  read  over  the  buried, 
No  crossing  of  infants,  nor  rings  for  the  married  : 
For  Roundheads,  &c. 

The  sivearer  there  shall  punish? d  be  still, 
But  drunkenness  private  be  counted  no  ill, 
Yet  both  kinds  of  lying  as  much  as  you  'will : 
For  Roundheads,  &c. 

Elo'w  'winds,  hoist  sails,  and  let  us  begone, 
But  be  sure  ive  take  our  plunder  along, 
That  Charles  may  find  little  'when  as  he  doth  come  ; 
For  Roundheads,  &c. 

Page  277.     The  Aphorisms  of  Galen  I  count,  fsfc. 

With  this  accumulation  of  impossible  ingredients,  not  de- 
oid  of  humour,  compare  "A  Maiden  of  late,"  &c.,  p.  170. 

Page  280.     Novu  I  am  married,  Sir  John,  ®c. 

Also  in  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  70  (J.  P.  C.  Re- 
print, 86).  Music  by  Willm.  Webb,  in  John  Hilton's 
Catch  that  Catch  Can,  1652,  p.  72. 

Page  281.     /  have  reason  to  fly  thee,  &c. 

By  ALEXANDER  BROME;  among  his  Sgs.,  1668,  p.  78. 
In  the  Rump,  i.  267;  Loyal  Sgs.,  i.  161.  It  is  the 
Answer  to  "  Nay,  prithee  don't  fly  me  !  "  given  on  p.  36. 

Page  283.     I  have  the  fairest  Non-perel. 

Also  in  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  26;  where  Syrens  is 
printed  Hyrens,  in  3rd  verse.  Cf.  Westm.  Droll.  Appen- 
dix, p.  xxxii.,  note  on  p.  74.  The  present  mocker  con- 
cedes that  his  beauty  was  "chaste."  Probably  (as  even 

the 


396  APPENDIX. 

the  ugliest  meet  temptation  :  thus  compare  John  Skel- 
ton's  delightful  book,  "A  Campaigner  at  Home,"  p.  114), 
in  the  same  way  that  another  Lady  merited  the  title  : — 

I  had  a  Love,  and  she  rwas  chast, 

Alack  the  more's  the  pity  : 
But  rwot you  hoiv  my  love  ivas  chaste? 

She  ivas  chaste  quite  through  the  City. 

(Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  p.  89.) 

Page  286.     Are  you  groivn  so  melancholy  ? 

With  the  music,  in  Pills,  v.  118,  as  "A  Cure  for  Melan- 
choly." 

Page  287.     Sublimest  discretions  have  clubbed,  &c. 

By  E.  EDWARDS,  of  London ;  this  poem  is  in  laudation  of 
Captain  William  Hicks,  his  Oxford  Jests.  Compare  pp. 
317,  408,  and  the  Appendix  to  our  Westminster  Drollery, 
pp.  ii.,  iii.,  xlv.,  xlvi.  Verse  5.  Will  Summers  or  Som-  | 
mers  was  a  favourite  Jester  to  Henry  VIII.  His  portrait, 
as  behind  a  lattice,  is  (we  believe)  at  Hampton  Court :  a 
small  copy,  after  Dalarem,  is  in  G.  Daniel's  "  Merrie 
England"  chapter  30.  Archibald  Armstrong,  or  Archee, 
disliked  by  Laud,  was  Jester  to  Charles  I.,  and  latest  of 
Court- Fools.  Under  the  Hanoverians  the  office  was  put 
into  commission.  "  Scoggin's  Jests  "  may  be  found  in 
W.  C.  Hazlitt's  reprints.  "Antidotes"  refers  to  the 
Ant.  against  Melancholy,  made  up  in  Pills,  1661. 
It  is  also  prefixed  to  Oxford  Jests,  edition  1684. 

Page  289.     A  Pox  on  the  Jaylor,  and  on,  &c. 
Music  to  this   by   Henry  Lawes.      It  is    by  WILLIAM 
CARTWRIGHT,  who  died    about   1639;     m    ms  "Royal 
Slave,"  Act  i.  Sc.  i.  (p.  91  of  the  earliest  edition  of  his 
works,  1651. 

Page  290.     My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground. 

Celania's  song,  by  SIR  WILLIAM  D'AVENANT,  in  his 
play,  "  The  Rivals  "  (an  adaptation  of  "  The  Two  Noble 

Kinsmen") 


APPENDIX.  397 

Cinsmen")  Act  v.,  about  1664.  Music  by  Matthew  Locke, 
n  Chappell's  Pop.  M.,  526.  The  air  also  given  in  Vocal 
Mag.,  1798,  II,  Sg.  100.  As  "The  Fair  Bedlamite"  in 
live,  i.  88;  as  "The  Mad  Shepherdess"  in  Evans'  Bds., 
195.  It  was  sung  by  Mary  Davis  (see  Introduction 
o  our  Westminster  Drollery,  p.  xxxii.  note) ;  Downes 
iays  "  She  performed  that  so  charmingly,  that,  not  long 
ifter  [1668],  it  raised  her  from  her  bed  on  the  cold  ground 
:o  a  Bed  Royal."  (Rose.  Anglicanus,  32,  edit.  1781).  In 
loxb.  Coll.,  ii.  423,  is  the  same  song,  lengthened  to  a 
roadside  ballad,  entitled  "The  Slighted  Maid;  or,  the 
Mning  Lover,"  beginning  "  Was  ever  Maiden  so  scorned 
y  one  that  she  loved  so  dear  ? "  given  complete,  by 
^happell,  527-8. 

Page  291.     From  the  fair  Lavinian  shore. 

With  music  by  Dr.  John  Wilson,  in  Playford's  Select 
Ayres,  1659,  p.  95 ;  and  P.'s  Musical  Companion,  1673, 
p.  115.  It  is  in  the  Percy  Folio  MS.,  iii.  308,  311,  q.  'vide, 
as  "  The  Lavinian  Shore,"  reading  "  From  the  rich,"  &c. 
Also  in  Windsor  Drollery,  2  ;  and  Le  Prince  d' Amour, 
1660,  p.  177.  It  is  attributed  to  WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE, 
but  with  only  manuscript  evidence.  (See  our  Additional 
[Note  in  next  volume.)  Compare  the  opening  couplet  of 
A  Song  :— 

A  gentle  breeze  from  the  Lavinian  Sea, 

Was  gliding  o'er  the  Coast  of  Sicily; 

When,  lulled  'with  soft  repose,  a  prostrate  Maid 

Upon  her  bended  arm  had  raised  her  head : 

Her  Soul  rwas  all  tranquile  and  smooth  'with  rest, 

Like  the  harmonious  slumbers  of  the  Blest ; 

Wrapped  up  in  Silence,  innocent  she  lay, 

And  press9 d  thefloiv'rs  'with  touch  as  soft  as  they.  &c. 

(Pills  to  P.  M.,  1699,  p.  221  ;  iii.  213.) 

Page  292.     Calm  'was  the  evening,  &c. 

Given  already,  on  p.  220.  See  note  in  Appendix,  p.  386. 
Nothing  better  shows  the  careless  hap-hazard  ways  of 

these 


398  APPENDIX. 

these  compilers  than  the  frequency  with  which,  in  all  th< 
longer  Drolleries,  songs  are  repeated  in  the  same  volume 

Page  293.     Fetch  me  Ben  Jonsorfs  scull,  &c. 

By  DR.  HENRY  EDWARDS.  Although  absent  from  th 
1 66 1  edition  of  Merry  Drollery,  it  was  certainly  then  ii 
existence,  for  it  appears  at  that  date  in  the  Antidot 
against  Melancholy,p.  57,  with  "  By  Dr.  H.  E."  prefixed 
Again,  it  is  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  P-  59>  and  in  Pills 
iii.  327,  as  "  The  Virtue  of  Sack."  It  is  one  of  the  bes 
Bacchanalian  Rhapsodies  in  praise  of  that  liquor,  and  i 
admirably  sustained  throughout,  while  the  varying  whim 
gain  mastery. 

Page  296.     Noiu  that  the  Spring  hath  fill* d  our  'veins. 

In  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  66;  J.  P.  Collier': 
Reprint,  81.     Music  by  John   Hilton,  in  his  Catch  tha  ' 
Catch  Can,  1652,  p.  I. 

Page  300.     O  the  ivily,  ivi/y  Fox. 

Also  in  the  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  69 ;  Repr.,  86  , 
With  music,  by  Edward  Nelham,  it  had  appeared  ii  i 
John  Hilton's  "  Catch  that  Catch  can,"  57,  1658. 

Page  300.     She  lay  all  naked  in  her  bed. 

Also  in  the  1656  edition  of  Wit  and  Drollery,  p.  54;  t( 
this  is  added,  in  the  1661  edition,  58  (as  also  in  Merr} 
Drollery,  same  date,  ii.  116)  an  offensive  and  quite  un- 
necessary Mock,  "  She  lay  up  to,"  &c.  We  learn  frorr 
illuminated  manuscripts,  that  it  was  the  custom  to  sleej 
without  night  gear.  See  illustration  on  p.  278,  vol.  i.  o 
"  Chaucer's  England." 

Page  302.     Some  wives  are  good,  and  some  are  bad. 

With  the  music  in  Pills,  iv.  181.  Robert  Jamieson  quotes 
this  in  his  Popular  Bds.,  1806,  ii.  316. 

Pag< 


APPENDIX. 


399 


'age  304.     Call  George  again  boy,  Call  George  again. 

Phis  excellent  Catch  is  also  in  Antidote  against  Melan- 
choly, 67  ;  Reprint,  82.  Music  by  Jn.  Hilton,  M.C.,  26. 

pp.  304,  306.    Pox  take  you ;    and,  I  pray  thee,  Drunkard. 

pv.lso  in  Wit  and  Drollery,  1656,  pp.  84,  89;  where  the 
Peculiarly  drunken  look  of  the  promiscuously  mingled 

apitals  meets  us.  Like  David  Copperfield's  running  his 
yords  together  (i.e.,  "  Amigoarawaysoo"  and  "  Lorbless- 
ner!")  which  Thackeray  speedily  imitated,  it  is  sug- 

estive  of  "  How  came  you  so  ?" 

Page  308.     She  that  'will  eat  her  breakfast  in  her  bed. 

rtusic  (by  John  Hilton)  in  Walsh's  Catch-Club,  Pt.  ii. 
.  42,  No.  68.  Words  in  Wits  Recreations,  1640,  No. 
66  -,  Wits  Interpreter,  1655,  p.  115  ;  Antidote  ag.  Melan- 
holy,  68 ;  and  Musa  Madrigalesca,  300,  from  Hilton's 
Catch  that  Catch  can,"  p.  23,  1652. 

Page  309.      Why  should  <we  boast  of  Arthur,  &c. 

'he  variations  and  additional  verses  are  so  numerous, 
nat  we  reserve  them  for  the  companion  volume.  The 
ong  was  popular,  from  about  1612,  and  meets  us  (some- 
imes  as  "Why  do  we  boast,"  &c.)  in  Antidote  ag. 
Melanc.,  26;  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  29;  Pills  (with 
nusic),  iii.  116;  Old  Bds.,  1723,  i.  24;  Percy's  Reliq., 
i.  3,  No.  14;  Bagford  Coll.,  ii.  16,  &c.  A  Second  Part, 
•y  John  Grubb,  beginning  "The  Story  of  King  Arthur  it 
s  very  memorable,"  meets  us  in  Pills,  1699,  p,  303; 
719,  iii.  315.  An  earlier  second  part,  political,  leads  oft" 
vith  "  Now  the  Rump  is  confounded  ;"  March  7,  1659- 
)O;  in  the  Rump,  ii.  159;  Loyal  Sgs.,  ii.  249. 

Page  312.     Safw you  not  Pierce  the  Piper. 

)ne  other  early  copy  of  this  meets  us  in  Antidote  against 
Vlelancholy,  same  date,  1661,  p.  16  ;  J.  P.  C.  Repr.,  21. 
?litson  eives  it  in  his  Robin  Hood,  ii.  210.  Wm.  Chap- 
pell 


400  APPENDIX. 

pell  (to  whom  we  all  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  his  Pop- 
ular Music  of   the  Olden  Time,  and  other  works  alike 
scholarly  to  satisfy  the  antiquary,  and  yet  so  genial  inn 
tone   that  they  form  delightful  reading  to   the   genera 
lovers  of  literature),  gives  us  the  music,  and  first  verse 
Only,  in  P.  M.,  p.  540.      We  find  the  words  of  the  livel} 
modern  version,  "The  Wedding  of  Arthur  O'Bradley" 
(attributed,  in  this  re-cast,  to  one  Taylor,  a  comic  singei 
and  actor  at  beginning  of  the  iQth  century),  in  Bds.  ol»| 
the  Peasantry,  annotated  edit.,  p.  139  ;   It  begins,  "  Come 
neighbours,  and  listen  awhile."      The  bridegroom  is  of  i  \ 
Petrucio  cast,  in  disposition  and  attire.     We  suspect  thai ; 
Taylor  had  got  some  traditional  fragment  of  the  earliei 
Arthur  O' Bradley  to  build  on;  such  as  was  referred  to  b} 
Elizabethan   dramatists.       A    different    ballad    entitlec 
"  Arthur  O' Bradley,"  printed  about  the  end  of  last  cen<  I 
tury,  is  in  Roxburghe  Coll.,  iii.  283 ;    the  end  is  lost,  bu 
it  begins, 

"All  in  the  merry  month  of  May, 

The  maids  a  May  pole  they  'will  have  ; 

Your  helping  hand  I  do  crave  ; 

For  there's  never  a  Man  shall  sup 

Till  I  have  drank  my  cup, 

For  I  am  beloved  by  all, 

The  great  and  the  small, 

For  my  name  it  is  Arthur  6"  Bradley,  O, 

O  rare  Arthur  o' Bradley  O, 

OJlne  Arthur  o*  Bradley  0. 

"  And  as  I  vuent  forth  one  day, 
1  met  a  maid  by  the  ivay, 
I  took  her  by  the  hand, 
Desiring  her  to  stand ; 
For  'tis  Love  conquers  Kings, 
And  a  sorrowful  heart  brings  ; 
For  if  you  lov'dyour  mother, 
Love  me  and  no  other, 

For  my  name,"  &c. 

Six  other  irregular  verses  follow.      (See  Additional  Not 
in  next  volume  of  the  Drolleries). 

Ini 


APPENDIX.  401 

In  the  Sixth  Scena  of  the  ancient  Interlude  entitled  the 
"Contract  of  a  Marriage  between  Wit  and  Wisdom" 
(mentioned  as  already  existing,  in  the  play  "Sir  Thomas 
More,"  about  1590);  printed  in  1846  for  the  Shakespeare 
Society,  edited  by  J.  O.  Halliwell;  we  find  "  Idlenis," 
the  Vice,  alluding  to  the  proverbial  Arthur  O' Bradley, 
thus  :— 

This  is  a  "world  to  see  hoiv  fortune  changeth, 
This  shalbe  his  luck  'which  like  me  rangeth, 

and  raingeth  ; 

For  the  honour  of  Artrebradle9 
This  age  wold  make  me  s'were  madly  ! 
Give  me  one  peny  or  a  halfpeny,  &c.  (P.  49.) 

See,  also,  J.  P.  Collier's  Bibl.  Account,  i.  26,  where  he 
remarks  "  the  character  of  the  drama  carries  us  back  to 
the  reign  of  Edward  VI.,  or  even  earlier." 

Page  317.     /  tell  thee9  Kit,  'where  I  have  been. 

By  T.  FRANKLIN,  Oxon.  Tune  of  Sir  John  Suckling's 
ballad,  "  I  tell  thee,  Dick."  Also  prefixed  to  the  "  Ox- 
ford Jests,  1684,  and  entitled  "Two  Swains  near  Oxford 
that  came  to  London." 

Page  318.     There  'were  three  Cooks  in  Colebrook. 

Also  in  Antidote  ag.  Melancholy,  70  ;  Repr.  87  ;  Acad. 
Compt.,  1670,  p.  185.  With  music  in  Walsh's  Catch- 
Club,  ii.  43. 

Page  319.     Of  all  the  Sciences  beneath  the  Sun. 

We  know  of  no  other  copy.  Compare  (probably)  Dr. 
James  Smith's  "  Blacksmith,"  on  p.  225,  which  preceded 
ithis  one,  we  believe. 

Page  323.      When  Vse  camefrst  to  London  toivn. 
In    1656  this  appeared  in   Wit  and   Drollery,  p.  75;  in 
[684  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  37.    Also,  with  music  by  Akeroyd, 
in  the  Pills,  iv.  96.  Page 

c  c 


402  APPENDIX. 

Page  326.      Why  should  ive  not  laugh,  and  be  jolly  ? 

(By  ALEXANDER  BROME,  before  1655,  when  it  appears  in 
Wit's  Interpreter,  p.  61  (edit.  1671,  p.  167);  in  Wit  and 
Drollery,  1656,  p.  112.  Also  in  the  Rump,  i.  313;  Loyal 
Songs,  i.  199,  and  A.  Brome's  Songs,  1688,  p.  69,  Title, 
The  Cure  of  Care. 

Page  328.     Noiv  ive  are  met  in  a  knot,  &c. 

Probably  this  likewise  is  by  ALEXANDER  BROME,  though 
not  included  amongst  his  songs  when  collected  by  him- 
self (he  probably  wrote  many  others  additional).  For 
Tom  D'Urfey  (to  whom  we  all  have  a  leaning)  attributes 
it  to  "  Old  loyal  Brome,"  when  beginning  his  own  song 
(Pills  ii.  66),  "  The  Parliament  sat  as  snug  as  a  Cat," 
which  is  evidently  quoted  from  verse  14  (p.  331).  It  is  in 
the  Rump  i.  315;  and  Loyal  Songs,  i.  201. 

Page  332.     Have  you  observed  the  Wench  in  the  street  ? 

In  Windsor  Drollery,  138.  With  music  for  three  voices, 
by  Thomas  Holmes,  in  John  Hilton's  "  Catch  that  Catch 
Can,"  52,  1658;  and  in  Walsh's  Catch-Club,  Pt.  ii.,  p. 
25- 

Page  333.     Let  the  trumpet  sound,  &c. 

This  medley  is  in  the  Rump,  i.  258;  Loyal  Songs,  1731, 
i.  149. 

Page  337.     Sheiv  a  Room,  Sheiv  a  Room. 

Also  in  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  69;  Repr.  85. 
Music  by  Thomas  Holmes,  in  Catch  that  Catch  Can, 
1652,  p.  44. 

Page  339.     He  that  a  happy  life  ivould  lead. 

By  ALEXANDER  BROME  ;  written  before  1658,  at  which 
date  it  appears  in  Wit  Restored,  p.  163;  Reprint,  1873, 
p.  285.  In  A.  B.'s  Sgs,  1668,  p.  114,  entitled  "  The  Ad- 
vice." 


APPENDIX.  403 

Page  341.      What  Fortune  had  I,  poor  maid,  &c. 

In  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  p.  74.  Also  (if  the  same 
as  "What  ill  luck  had  I,  silly  maid  that  I  am?")  in 
Choice  Drollery,  1656,  p.  84.  See  our  next  volume  loc. 
cit. 

Page  342.     He  that  intends  to  take  a  'wife. 

In  the  Pills,  iii.  106,  as  "  The  Wife  Hater,"  to  same 
tune  (Clark's,  on  p.  102  of  same  vol.)  as  "  Now  that 
Love's  Holiday  is  come." 

Page  348.     If  any  so  'wise  is,  that  Sack  he  despises. 

This  had  appeared,  with  music  by  Wm.  Child,  in  Hilton's 
"  Catch  that  Catch  can,"  82,  1652.  We  find  the  music  also 
in  Walsh's  Catch-Club,  ii.  31.  Words  in  Antidote  ag. 
Melancholy,  72;  Wit  and  Mirth,  1684,  p.  114;  Hive,  iii. 
143;  and  Vocal  Library,  128. 

Page  374,  line  13.  (For  &c.  read  5th  s.  iv.  ii.)  It  is  by 
FRANCIS  BACON  ( ?  from  Posidippus),  printed  in  Farna- 
by's  Florilegium,  1629;  Reliquiae  Wottonite,  etc. 


FINALE. 


404 


FINALE. 

THERE  are,  who,  wandering  through  each  trim  parterre, 
Will  spy  out  fungus-growths,  neglecting  roses ; 
So  Readers,  leaving  what  are  choice  and  rare, 
May  take  exception  to  these  ancient  posies. 
We  grant,  some  look  like  weeds ;  we  scarcely  dare 
Commend  them  to  your  bosoms,  or  your  noses ! 
What  then  ?  In  Hortus  Siccus  plac'd,  with  care, 
They'll  gain  historical  Metempsychosis. 

July,  1875.  J.  W.  E. 


405 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES 

TO    THE 

WESTMINSTER  DROLLERIES. 


Our  next  book  will  contain  fresh  Title-pages  to  the 
series  of  Drolleries,  completed  in  three  volumes.  Mean- 
while, let  readers  accept  the  following,  for  CORRECTIONS 
and  ADDITIONS  to  the  Appendix  of  Westminster  Drollery : — 

Page  10.  Wert  thou  much  fairer  than  thou  art  is  by  "M. 
W.  M.,"  before  1651,  as  it  was  answered  in  that 
year  by  Thomas  Stanley,  in  a  Song  beginning 
"  Wert  thou  by  all  affections  sought." 

—  13.  Never  persivade  me  to't.     Also  in  Playford's  Select 

Ayres,   1652,  p.  30,  with  music  by  Dr.  Colman ; 
where  is  O  fain  'would  I,  &c.,  p.  9. 
-  17.  Cellamina,  of  my   heart.         By  JOHN  DRYDEN, 
same  date,  1671,  in  "An  Evening's  Love,"  Act  i. 

—  20.    Was  ever  man  so  vex'd,  &c.      Given,   with  the 

music,  in  Wit  &  Mirth,  1700,  ii.  152;  Pills,  iv.  155. 

—  28.  Line  30.    Note  on  Sauncing  bell.     See  also  The 

Second  Maiden's  Tragedy,  1611,  Act  ii.  Sc.  2, — 
"  That  drowns  a  saunce  bell.'9 

—  30.  (Additional.)     The  two  poems  On  a  Great  Heat, 

and  On  a  Mighty  Rain,  beginning  respectively  "I 
formerly  in  Countreys,  &c.,  and  "Heaven  did  not 
Weep,"  &c.,  West.  Droll.,  i.  67,  68,  are  by  WILLIAM 
CAVENDISH,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  in  his  Comedy  of 
"The  Country  Captain,"  1649. 

—  30.  Madam,  I  cannot  Court,  &c.     The  original  poem, 

of  which  this  is  the  middle  verse  (modernized),  is 
attributed  to  no  less  a  poet  than  CHRISTOPHER 
MARLOW  (who  died,  May,  1593),  although  marked 
"  Ignoto."  Alexander  Dyce  gives  it  in  both  editions 
of  that  dramatist,  and  another  of  our  best  modern 
editors,  Colonel  Francis  Cunningham,  inserts  it  in 
his  "Mermaid  Edition,"  p.  271.  We  transcribe 
the  rare  original,  printed  "At  Middleborugh,"  n,d., 
about  1597,  at  end  of  the  earliest  edition  of  "  Epi- 
grammes  and  Elegies.  By  I.  D[aviesl.  and  C. 
M[arlow]."  It  begins:—  "  IGNOTO. 


406  ADDITIONAL  NOTES  TO  THE 

IGNOTO. 

/Loue  thee  not  for  sacred  chastitie, 
Who  hues  for  that?  nor  for  thy  sprightly  ivit : 
I  loue  thee  not  for  thy  siveete  modestie, 
Which  makes  thee  in  perfections  throane  to  sit. 

I  loue  thee  not  for  thy  inchaunting  eye, 
Thy  beautie\^s~\  rauishing perfection: 
I  loue  thee  not  for  'vnchast  luxurie, 
Nor  for  thy  bodies  fair  e  proportion. 

I  loue  thee  not  for  that  my  soule  doth  daunce, 
And  leap  'with  pleasure  'when  those  lips  of  thine : 
Give  Musical  I  and  graceful  utterance, 
To  some  (by  thee  made  happie)  poet's  line. 

I  loue  thee  not  for  voice  or  slender  small, 

But  rwilt  thou  knoiv  'wherefore  ?  faire  s*weet[,~\for  all. 

(Compare  Thomas  Carew's  "O  my  dearest,"  in  Westm. 
Droll.,  \.  91.)  Wit's  Interpreter  keeps  much  closer  to  the 
original  than  our  version  in  W.  D.,  and  indeed  gives  true 
readings  where  the  "Ignoto"  is  wrong.  Guilding  my 
Saint  (not  Oiling);  Buss  thy  fist  (not  fill),  &c.  Finally, 
it  reads  "jerk  thee  soundly."  An  obliging  correspon- 
dent (W.  G.  Medlicott,  of  Long  Meadow,  Massachu- 
setts) drew  our  attention  to  this.  Third  verse  reads  : — 

Sweet  ivench[,~\  I  loue  thee, yet  I  twil  not  sue, 
Or  sherw  my  loue  as  muskie  Courtiers  doe, 
lie  not  carouse  a  health  to  honor  thee, 
In  this  same  bezling  drunken  curtesie : 
and  ivhen  a  Is  quafde,  eate  i^p  my  boivsing  glasse. 
In  glory  that  I  am  thy  seruile  asse. 
Nor  'wil  I  'weare  a  rotten  burbon  locke, 
as  some  sivorne  pesant  to  a  female  smock, 
'welfeaturde  lasse,  Thou  knoivest  I  loue  the\e\  dearc\\ 
Yet  for  thy  sake  I  ivil  not  bore  mine  eare.  [,] 

To  hang  thy  durtie  silken  shoo[~~\tires  there, 
nor  for  thy  loue  ivil  I  once  gnash  a  brick, 
Or  some  pied  collours  in  my  bonnet  stiche. 
but  by  the  chaps  of  hell  to  do  thee  good, 
lie  freely  spend  my  Thrise  decocted  bloud. 

—  32. 


WESTMINSTER  DROLLERIES.  407 

—  32.  The   Shakespeare  Society,   in    1846,  printed  the 

ballad,  "  Come,  all  you  Farmers  out  of  the  Country  " 
&c.  We  may  include  it  in  our  third  volume. 

—  39.  Beat  on,  Proud  billoivs.     As  far  as  we  are  aware, 

no  claim  to  the  authorship  of  this  excellent  Song 
was  ever  advanced  by  Colonel  RICHARD  LOVE- 
LACE during  his  lifetime,  or  by  his  friends  for  him 
in  later  time.  It  neither  appears  among  his  Lu- 
casta  Poems,  1649,  nor  among  the  "Posthume 
Poems  of  Richard  Lovelace,  Esqre ,"  1659.  David 
Lloyd,  in  his  "Memoires  of  those  that  suffered"  in 
the  cause  of  Charles  I.,  1668,  certainly  implies 
that  the  author  of  it  was  still  living,  with  no 
other  reward  than  "  the  conscience  of  having  suf- 
fered." Now,  unless  there  were  an  earlier  edition, 
•  ten  years  earlier  than  1668,  (against  the  existence  of 
which  are  good  reasons),  this  assertion  by  Lloyd 
disposes  of  the  claim  advanced  by  a  learned  and 
genial  critic  of  Westminster  Drolleries  in  the  Ath- 
enteum  of  April  loth,  1875.  Nor  do  we  think  the 
internal  evidence  strongly  in  favour  of  Lovelace. 
The  parallelism  indicated  between  his  lines, 

Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 
That  for  an  Hermitage  ; 

and  the  similar  expression  in  "  Beat  on,  proud  bil- 
lows," 

Locks,  Ears,  and  Solitude  together  met, 
Makes  me  no  Prisoner,  but  an  Anchoret : 

is  such  ( in  our  humble  opinion )  as  more  resembles 
an  imitation,  in  the  latter,  of  an  already  famous 
poem  (written  certainly  before  1649,  and  then  pub- 
lished), than  the  self-repetition  probable  from  a 
poet  who  had  already  so  fixed  his  idea.  Tradition 
assigns  "  Beat  on,  proud  billows,"  to  Sir  Roger 
L' Estrange;  but  we  confess  to  doubting  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  supposition.  It  seems  to  us,  firstly, 
above  his  range ;  secondly,  he  was  appointed  to  the 
lucrative  office  of  Licenser  (a  hangman's  duty,  too 
often),  so  early  as  1665.  How  then  can  David 

Lloyd's 


408  ADDITIONAL  NOTES,  ©V. 

Lloyd's  assertion  of  the  author  being  unrewarded, 
&c.,  be  held  to  apply  to  this  already  pampered 
official  ?  It  still  remains  in  great  part  a  question 
of  dates  :  Lloyd  wrote  thus  after  the  Restoration. 

—  42.  As  ive  'went  'wandering.     This  is  a  variation  of 

"When  I  do  travel  in  the  night/'  Merry  Drollery, 
Complete,  p,  255  (p.  73,  edit.  1661 );  see  p.  393. 

—  46.  Note  on  WM.  HICKS.     We  find   Samuel  Pepys 

recording  in  his  Diary,  Sept.  25,  1663,  "Pleased  to 
see  Captn.  Hickes  come  to  me  with  a  list  of  all  the 
officers  of  Deptford  Yard,  wherein  he,  being  a 
high  old  Cavalier,  do  give  me  an  account  of  every 
one  of  them  to  their  reproach  in  all  respects,  and 
discovers  many  of  their  knaverys,"  &c.  An  im- 
portant bit,  in  its  way,  and  not  making  much  in 
favour  of  the  adventurer. 

—  55.  Line  29.     Delete  "&,"  (W.  D.  being  for  Westm. 

Drollery,)  and  add  this  : — In  J.  P.  (jollier's  Extracts, 
Registers  of  Stationer's  Company,  i.  230,  we  find 
under  date  1569-70,  a  licence  to  Wyllm.  Greffeth 
for  printing  a  ballad  entitled  Taken  Napping,  as 
Mosse  took  his  Meare.  J.  P.  C.  notes  that  the 
proverb  is  not  yet  forgotten,  and  is  in  the  collec- 
tion by  John  Hey  wood. 

—  63.  Line  33.  Delete  "  It  appears  to  be  still  older,  as" 
and  read  "  It  is  as  early  as  1632;  and  in,"  &c. 

—  68.  The  Ballad,  on  a  similar  theme,  entitled   "The 

Devonshire  Damsels'  Frollick,"  begins  thus  : — 

"Tom  and  William,  'with  Ned  and  Ben, 
In  all  they  'were  about  nine  or  ten"  &c. 

See  our  next  volume,  and  Rox.  Col.,  iii.  137. 

—  72.  Bottom  line  but  five,  read  JOHN  CROWNE. 
-  74.  Line  sixth.     Read  1618,  not  1614. 

Introduction  to  W.  D.,  p.  19,  line  n,  (note),  read  1673  : 
uncertainty  about  1672.  The  frontispiece  referred 
to  on  this  page,  and  on  p.  74  of  Appendix,  is  now 
being  engraved  for  our  Readers.  It  gives  a  valu- 
able record  of  a  Stage-interior  at  the  exact  date 
of  the  Westminster  Drolleries  ;  or,  more  probably, 
immediately  before  the  Restoration.  J.  W.  E. 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

Now  in  the  Press,  and  shortly  to  be  Published, 

CHOICE  DROLLERY: 

Uniform  with  "  Westminster  Drolleries  "  and 
"  Merry  Drollery,  Complete" 

The  third  and  concluding  volume  of  the  present 
series  of  Drolleries  (each  complete  in  itself)  contains 
the  whole  of  the  rare  CHOICE  DROLLERY  of  1656, 
against  which  the  Puritans  waged  war,  destroying 
every  copy  that  could  be  obtained.  Among  the 
contents  are  the  remarkable  verses  on  The  Time-Poets, 
Beginning  "  One  night  the  great  Apollo,  pleased  with 
Ben,"  referring  to  Jonson's  companions,  the  dramatists 
and  songsters.  Jack  of  Lents  Ballat,  1625  ;  The 
Red  Head  and  the  White;  the  account  of  Aldobran- 
dino,  a  fat  Cardinal;  The  Maid  of  Tottenham;  The 
Doctors  Touchstone,  with  many  amatory  poems  of 
merit,  and  merry  epigrams,  diversify  the  volume. 
Several  songs  are  of  historical  importance,  and,  like 
the  above-named,  are  found  nowhere  but  here.  Such 
are  the  ballads  on  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  on  King 
James  /.,  with  another  Upon  the  Scots  being  beaten  at 
Musselborough  Field ;  verses  Upon  the  Gun  Powder 
Plot,  and  To  the  King  on  New  Years  Day,  1638. 
Burlesque  Lamentations,  Catches,  commingle  with 
Sonnets  and  tender  Serenades,  in  praise  of  beauty  and 
chaste  affection.  The  Western  Husbandman  sings 
his  complaint  against  the  late  wars,  and  Shepherds 
lament  the  loss  of  their  love. 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

ADDITIONAL  TO  THIS,  WE  GIVE   THE   34   SONGS 
AND    POEMS   FOUND   IN 

Merry  Drollery ,    1661, 

But  omitted  from  the  later  editions. 

Nearly  two  dozen  of  these  are  elsewhere  unat- 
tainable, among  them  being  "A  Puritan  of  late,"  The 
Ladies  Delight,  The  Tyrannical  Wife,  The  Tinker, 
The  Maid  a  Bathing,  A  Letany,  John  and  Jone, 
New  England  Described,  The  Insatiate  Lover,  and 
Love*  s  Dream. 


The  above  are  all  now  reprinted  for 

the  first  time. 
To  further  enrich  the  volume,  the  whole  of  the  re- 
maining Poems  from  the 

Antidote    against   Melancholy, 

1661 

(not   already  given),   are   here   added,   so  that  four 
complete  works  are  reproduced  in  these  three  volumes. 

The  whole  are  carefully  annotated  in  Appendices, 
with  a  separate  Editorial  Introduction  to  each  Col- 
lection. Many  rare  poems  from  other  Drolleries  and 
contemporary  volumes  help  to  illustrate  Jthe  series, 
which  claims  to  be  of  a  representative  character,  shew- 
ing the  Cavalier  humours  and  fancies  before  and 
after  the  Restoration. 

lUF  The  above,  together,  will  form  the  Third  and 
concluding  volume  of  the  "Drollery  Reprints" 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

Now  ready.     Small  8vo.,  zos.  6d.     Cloth,  uncut. 

A   RE-PRINT 


OF    THE 


Westminster   Drollery, 

1671,  1672. 

TO  those  who  are  already  acquainted  with  the 
two  parts  of  the  Westminster  Drollery,  published 
in  1671  and  1672,  it  must  have  appeared  strange  that 
no  attempt  has  hitherto  been  made  to  bring  these  de- 
lightful volumes  within  reach  of  the  students  of  our 
early  literature.  The  originals  are  of  extreme  rarity, 
a  perfect  copy  seldom  being  attainable  at  any  public 
sale,  and  then  fetching  a  price  that  makes  a  book- 
hunter  almost  despair  of  its  acquisition.  So  great  a 
favourite  was  it  in  the  Cavalier  times,  that  most  copies 
have  been  literally  worn  to  pieces  in  the  hands  of  its 
many  admirers,  as  they  chanted  forth  a  merry  stave 
from  the  pages.  There  is  no  collection  of  songs  sur- 
passing it  in  the  language,  and  as  representative  of  the 
lyrics  of  the  first  twelve  years  after  the  Restoration 
it  is  unequalled :  by  far  the  greater  number  are  else- 
where unattainable. 

The  WESTMINSTER  DROLLERIES  are  reprinted  with 
the  utmost  fidelity,  page  for  page,  and  line  for  line, 
not  a  word  being  altered,  or  a  single  letter  departing 
from  the  original  spelling. 

iJgT  An  indifferent  copy  of  the  original  edition  of 
the  Westminster  Drollery  was  sold  by  auction  last  year 
for  £22  i  os.  to  a  bookseller. 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS,  &c. 

"Strafford  Lodge,  Oatlands  Park, 

Surrey,  Feb.  4,  1875. 
DEAR  SIR, 

I  received  the  "Westminster  Drolleries" 
yesterday  evening.  I  have  spent  nearly  the  whole  of  this 
day  in  reading  it.  I  can  but  give  unqualified  praise  to  the 
editor,  both  for  his  extensive  knowledge  and  for  his  admi- 
rable style.  The  printing  and  the  paper  do  great  credit 
to  your  press.  I  miss  only  the  old  title  page  to  the  first 
part.  I  enclose  a  post-office  order  to  pay  for  my  copy. 

Yours  truly, 
Mr.  Robert  Roberts.  WM.  CHAPPELL." 


From  J.  O.  Halliijuell,  Esqre. 

".No.  n,  Tregunter  Road,  West  Brompton, 

London,  S.  W., 
DEAR  SIR,  25th  Feby.   1875. 

I  am  charmed  with  the  edition  of  the 
"Westminster  Droller);."  One  half  of  the  reprints  of  the 
present  day  are  rendered  nearly  useless  to  exact  students 
either  by  alterations  or  omissions,  or  by  attempts  to  make 
eclectic  texts  out  of  more  than  one  edition.  By  all  means 
let  us  have  introductions  and  notes,  especially  when  as 
good  as  Mr.  Ebsworth's,  but  it  is  essential  for  objects  of 
reference  that  one  edition  only  of  the  old  text  be  accurately 
reproduced.  The  book  is  certainly  admirably  edited. 

Yours  truly, 
To  Mr.  R.  Roberts.  J.  O.  PHILLIPPS." 


From  F.  J.  Furnivall,  Esq. 

"3,  St.  George's  Square,  Primrose  Hill,  London,  N.W., 

2nd  February,  1875. 
MY  DEAR  SIR, 

I  have  received  the  handsome  large  paper 
copy  of  your  "Westminster  Drolleries."  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  that  the  book  is  really  edited,  and  that  well,  by  a 
man  so  thoroughly  up  in  the  subject  as  Mr.  Ebsworth. 

Truly  yours, 

F.  J.  F." 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

From  the  Editor  of  the  "Fuller's  Worthies  Library" 
"Wordsworth's  Prose  Works,"  &c. 
"  Park  View,  Blackburn, 

Lancashire,  I3th  July,  1875. 
DEAR  SIR, 

I  got  the  "Westminster  Drolleries"  at 
tonce,  and  I  will  see  after  the  "  Merry  Drollery "  when 
jpublished. 

Go  on  and  prosper.    Mr.  Ebsworth  is  a  splendid  fellow, 
jevidently.  Yours, 

A.  B.  GROSART." 


J.  P.  COLLIER,  Esqre.,  has  also  written  warmly  com- 
j mending  the  work,  in  private  letters  to  the  Editor,  which 
he  holds  in  especial  honour. 


From  the  "Academy"  July  iQth,  1875. 

"  It  would  be  a  curious  though  perhaps  an  unprofitable 
speculation,  how  far  the  '  Conservative  reaction '  has  been 
{reflected  in  our  literature Reprints  are  an  impor- 
tant part  of  modern  literature,  and  in  them  there  is  a 
perceptible  relaxation  of  severity.  Their  interest  is  no 
longer  mainly  philological.  Of  late,  the  Restoration  has 
been  the  favourite  period  for  revival.  Its  dramatists  are 
marching  down  upon  us  from  Edinburgh,  and  the  invasion 
is  seconded  by  a  royalist  movement  in  Lincolnshire.  A 
Boston  publisher  has  begun  a  series  of  drolleries — in- 
tended, not  for  the  general  public,  but  for  those  students 
who  can  afford  to  pay  handsomely  for  their  predilection 
for  the  byways  of  letters. 

"  The  Introduction  is  delightful  reading,  with  quaint 
fancies  here  and  there,  as  in  the  *  imagined  limbo  of  un- 
finished books/  ....  There  is  truth  and  pathos  in  his 
excuses  for  the  royalist  versifiers  who  *  snatched  hastily, 
recklessly,  at  such  pleasures  as  came  within  their  reach, 
heedless  of  price  or  consequences.'  We  may  not  admit 
that  they  were  f  outcasts  without  degradation,'  but  we  can 
hardly  help  allowing  that  'there  is  a  manhood  visible  in 
their  failures,  a  generosity  in  their  profusion  and  unrest. 
They  are  not  stainless,  but  they  affect  no  concealment  of 
faults.  Our  heart  goes  to  the  losing  side,  even  when  the 


DROLLERY   RE-PRINTS. 

loss  has  been  in  great  part  deserved.'  ....  The  fact  is,  j 
that  in  his  contemplation  of  the  follies  and  vices  of  '  that 
very  distant  time '  he  loses  all  apprehension  of  their 
grosser  elements,  and  retains  only  an  appreciation  of  their 
wit,  their  elegance,  and  their  vivacity.  Without  offence 
be  it  said,  in  Lancelot's  phrase,  'he  does  something 
smack,  something  grow  to ;  he  has  a  kind  of  taste,' — and 
so  have  we  too,  as  we  read  him.  These  trite  and  ticklish 
themes  he  touches  with  so  charming  a  liberality  that  his 
generous  allowance  is  contagious.  We  feel  in  thoroughly 
honest  company,  and  are  ready  to  be  heartily  charitable 
along  with  him.  For  his  is  no  unworthy  tolerance  of  vice, 
still  less  any  desire  to  polish  its  hardness  into  such  facti- 
tious brilliancy  as  glistens  in  Grammont.  It  is  a  manly 
pity  for  human  weakness,  and  an  unwillingness  to  see, 
much  less  to  pry  into,  human  depravity.  '  It  would  have 
been  a  joy  for  us  to  know  that  these  songs  were  wholly 
unobjectionable  ;  but  he  who  waits  to  eat  of  fruit  without 
speck  must  go  hungry  through  many  an  orchard,  even 
past  the  apples  of  the  Hesperides.'  ....  The  little  book 
is  well  worth  the  attention  of  any  one  desirous  to  have  a  i 
bird's-eye  view  of  the  Restoration  '  Society.'  Its  scope  is 
far  wider  than  its  title  would  indicate.  The  '  Drolleries ' 
include  not  only  the  rollicking  rouse  of  the  staggering 
blades  who  '  love  their  humour  well,  boys,'  the  burlesque 
of  the  Olympian  revels  in  '  Hunting  the  Hare,'  the  wild 
vagary  of  Tom  of  Bedlam,  and  the  gibes  of  the  Benedicks 
of  that  day  against  the  holy  estate,  but  lays  of  a  delicate 
and  airy  beauty,  a  dirge  or  two  of  exquisite  pathos,  homely 
ditties  awaking  patriotic  memories  of  the  Armada  and  the 
Low  Country  wars,  and  'loyal  cantons'  sung  to  the 
praise  and  glory  of  King  Charles.  The  '  late  and  true 
story  of  a  furious  scold '  might  have  enriched  the  budget 
of  Autolycus,  and  Feste  would  have  found  here  a  store  of 
'love-songs,'  and  a  few  s  songs  of  good  life.'  The  collec- 
tion is  of  course  highly  miscellaneous.  After  the  stately 
measure  may  come  a  jig  with  homely  'duck  and  nod,'  or 
even  a  dissonant  strain  from  the  'riot  and  ill-managed 
merriment '  of  Comus, 

*  Midnight  shout,  and  revelry, 
Tipsy  dance,  and  jollity.*" 


DROLLERY    RE-PRINTS. 

From  the  "Bookseller"  March,  1875. 

"  If  we  wish  to  read  the  history  of  public  opinion  we 
must  read  the  songs  of  the  times  :  and  those  who  help  us 
:o  do  this  confer  a  real  favour.  Mr.  Thomas  Wright  has 
done  enormous  service  in  this  way  by  his  collections  of 
political  songs.  Mr.  Chappell  has  done  better  by  giving 
us  the  music  with  them;  but  much  remains  to  be  done. 
3n  examining  the  volume  before  us,  we  are  surprised  to 
:ind  so  many  really  beautiful  pieces,  and  so  few  of  the 
:oarse  and  vulgar.  Even  the  latter  will  compare  favour- 
ably with  the  songs  in  vogue  amongst  the  fast  men  in  the 
early  part  of  the  present  century. 

The  "  Westminster  Drolleries"  consist  of  two  collections 
of  poems  and  songs  sung  at  Court  and  theatres,  the  first 
published  in  1671,  and  the  second  in  1672.  Now  for  the 
:irst  time  reprinted.  The  editor,  Mr.  J.  Woodfall 
Ebsworth,  has  prefaced  the  volume  with  an  interesting 
ntroduction  .  .  .  and,  in  an  appendix  of  nearly  eighty 
sages  at  the  end,  has  collected  a  considerable  amount  of 
Bibliographical  and  anecdotical  literature.  Altogether, 
~LV e  think  this  may  be  pronounced  the  best  edited  of  all  the 
reprints  of  old  literature,  which  are  now  pretty  numerous. 
A  word  of  commendation  must  also  be  given  to  Mr. 
Roberts,  of  Boston,  the  publisher  and  printer — the  volume 
is  a  credit  to  his  press,  and  could  have  been  produced  in 
its  all  but  perfect  condition  only  by  the  most  careful  atten- 
tion and  watchful  oversight." 


From  the  "  Athen&um"  April  loth,  1875. 
"  Mr.  Ebsworth  has,  we  think,  made  out  a  fair  case  in 
his  Introduction  for  reprinting  the  volume  without  exci- 
sion. The  book  is  not  intended  'virginibus  puerisque,  but 
to  convey  to  grown  men  a  sufficient  idea  of  the  manners 
and  ideas  which  pervaded  all  classes  in  society  at  the 

time  of  the  reaction  from  the  Puritan  domination 

Mr.  Ebsworth's  Introduction  is  well  written.  He  speaks 
with  zest  of  the  pleasant  aspects  of  the  Restoration 
period,  and  has  some  words  of  praise  to  bestow  upon  the 
*  Merry  Monarch'  himself.  ...  Let  us  add  that  his  own 
"  Prelude,"  "Entr'  Acte,"  and  "Finale"  are  fair  speci- 
mens of  versification." 


APOPHTHEGME 
OF     ERASMUS. 


A  RE-PRINT 

Of  the    1564  Edition  of  this  fine  old  book  is  now 
the  press,  and  will  shortly  be  ready. 


IT   IS    BEAUTIFULLY 


Printed  in  the  Old  Style, 

IN    DEMY   8VO., 

ON  OLD-FASHIONED  LAID  PAPER 


Limited  to  250  Copies,  at  2 is.  each  to  Subscribers 


RE-PRINTS  of  other  Rare  and  Valuable  Bool! 
are  in  progress,  of  which  fuller  particulars  will  be  give: 
in  due  time,  by  Robert  Roberts,  Boston,  Lincolnshire 


GENERAL  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA— BERKELEY 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORRO 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or  c 

date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall, 


WAP 


oC 


MOV  2  3 1966  68 
RECEIVED 

DEC  15 '66 -9 


UI 

ca 


J 

y» 

H 


AUG  0  6  1987 


LlBhAR 


;Y  USE  ONL/ 


MAY  ?,  5  fe^ 

CIRCULATION  DEPT. 


RECEIVED 


CIRCULATION  DEP 


^2l-100m-l,'54(Q87sl6)476 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


